


Sanditon:  the second season

by SophiaGeorge



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 57,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22147282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaGeorge/pseuds/SophiaGeorge
Summary: Charlotte and Sidney are unhappily parted.  Will fate and their friends see them reunited?  A multi-episode story.
Relationships: Charlotte Heywood/Sidney Parker, Lord Babington/Esther Denham
Comments: 498
Kudos: 703





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I had intended to post this weeks ago, but I underestimated how busy the holidays would be, and how hard this was going to be to write. I'm trying to construct this as I would have liked to have seen the episodes of season two play out, so there are more scene changes than I would ordinarily write into a chapter. Also, the word count of episode one was already expanding out of control, so I'm splitting it across two chapters - think of it as an ad break ;-)

_Sidney_

One week after Charlotte’s departure from Sanditon, Sidney awoke with a crashing headache and a lingering sense of shame. Closing his eyes against the room which was whirling around him, he was vaguely aware that he was fully clothed and his boots were still on. His mouth felt as dry as sand and his brain throbbed unpleasantly against his skull. It was the third morning this week he’d woken up like this.

Vague wisps of memory chased through his head. There he was sitting in a corner of the Denham Arms, bottles of wine in a row. Cards…and a brawl. Did he imagine that? He flexed his right hand and winced. Clearly not. Damn it. He would need to make reparations to someone today. He could not remember who.

He rolled over onto his side with a pained groan and blinked against the light filtering through the shutters. A chair was overturned but mercifully his room seemed largely intact. On the table three letters were neatly stacked. Eliza! He sank back into his pillow. He’d forgotten to answer her last. It was rather more acidic than the other two had been and desired to know if he intended to join her in London or whether he had escaped the country on a boat. _I know how much you value your family and their little town, but I would hope that you value your betrothed rather more._

If Eliza saw him in this state she might well have second thoughts. For a moment he allowed himself to imagine her breaking off the engagement in disgust. He pictured himself bowing solemnly and then racing to Willingden to beg forgiveness. Then he saw Charlotte’s face in his mind’s eye, anger mingling with contempt and the dream vanished. It was no use. Even if he was free he could not imagine that she would agree to resume their understanding. If _she_ could see him now…

Shame prickled over him. He had broken her heart and this was the way he chose to repay her. Her last words to him echoed in his head. _You must try to make her happy_. Thus far he hadn’t even tried, too caught up in his own misery to care very much what Eliza thought.

Things had to change. This was the path he’d chosen, albeit one which had been forced upon him by necessity. He sat up and waited for the room to stop spinning. This had to be the last time he did this. If he couldn’t have his happiness with Charlotte, he could at least honour his memories of her and behave like a gentleman. With an unsteady hand he rang the bell and struggled to his feet.

An hour later, shaved and dressed if a little pale, Sidney sat down at the writing desk. Eliza’s letters would be answered, but there was a pressing matter which needed to be dealt with first. Drawing a sheet of paper towards him, he dipped his pen in the inkpot and wrote, _Dearest Charlotte_. He traced her name with the utmost care.

He wrote with emotion and without inhibition. He wrote about his hopes for them, how he had imagined their futures together. He detailed every moment that he had loved her, and told her how she appeared to him constantly in every part of Sanditon – the town, the cove, the cliffs. He laid all of his heart at her feet and vowed he would strive to be worthy of her every day, even if he never saw her again.

When he finished, he sat back. He felt exhausted, but oddly at peace. He had written his soul onto the page and there it would stay while he left to do his duty to his family and to Eliza.

He folded up the closely written pages and sealed them carefully. He took his travelling bag out from under the bed and cut away the stitching on a section of the silk lining. He turned the sealed letter over in his hands, then kissed it and tucked it away inside, smoothing the lining back in place. 

Then he took a deep breath and turned back to the desk to begin his letter to Eliza.

_Charlotte_

Charlotte had read many love stories during her formative years, hidden away in a window seat. It seemed exciting and grown up, and in the night before she fell asleep, she had often imagined a man taking her hand and whispering sweet things in her ear until she blushed all over her body.

She had not imagined this kind of pain. Sometimes she felt almost breathless with hurt. Other times it felt as though she was outside her body; she watched herself from afar as someone who looked like Charlotte talked to her family in enthusiastic detail about the bathing machines, the grand houses being built, the balls where people flitted about like butterflies in all their finery. If she could have returned to that twelve year old girl in the window seat, she might well have counselled her to guard her heart, and told her that love, in reality, was a torment. She wasn’t sure if it was at all worth the fraction of happiness she had been accorded.

She had only revealed the whole truth to Alison and had promptly regretted it. Alison had listened with wide eyes and at the end had declared Sidney to be a villain, unfit for decent society and who would, she had no doubt, come to a doomed end. 

“He is not anything of the kind,” Charlotte retorted, tears springing to her eyes. “I told you, his brother would have been thrown into a debtors’ prison.”

“It seems to me that his brother should have been made to untangle his own affairs. This Mr Parker made you believe he meant marriage only to throw you over at the very last minute. He _kissed_ you!”

“He _did_ mean it. And I kissed him back.” Charlotte could feel the blood rushing to her head. Alison being angry with Sidney made her irritated out of all measure. Only Charlotte herself was entitled to be angry with him, only she was allowed to imagine herself marching back to Sanditon and pummelling him until he begged for mercy. 

Alison sighed. “I don’t mean to upset you. But you would be furious too, if I came back with a tale like that. Wouldn’t you?”

Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Sleep eluded her often that first week. Just before dawn the day after her confession, she crept out of the house and walked up to the hill where she had first seen the Parkers’ carriage. She allowed herself to imagine a carriage coming along that same path, and Sidney Parker leaping down from it, striding across the hill to meet her. He would take her hands and say…

_New maid?_

She choked on a laugh as the memory intruded. He was abominable in every way, and she knew that she would not forget him. But she hated this aching, hollow feeling. She wanted to be rid of it, and she didn’t know how. 

A sliver of sun emerged from behind that hill, bringing with it the sweet smell of high summer. In the grass the insects stirred and grubbed, and from the Heywoods’ farm, the cockerel crowed in triumph.

A tiny ray of hope stole into Charlotte’s heart. Perhaps the world was not ended after all. She was realistic enough to know that it would take longer than a week to mend herself, but she was determined that she would feel happy again, and the interlude at Sanditon would become a fond, faded recollection which in private moments she might smile over and then forget.

This resolution made, she turned her back on the Parkers’ hill and made her way back home.


	2. Reunion, part 1

_Three months later_

The lazy warmth of the summer had lately given way to crisp winds, and light rain scattered over the Heywoods’ farmhouse. Charlotte, curled up in the window seat of the dining room, pulled her shawl tighter around her and read through once more the contents of the letter she held in tense fingers. She skimmed all the parts she knew by heart, inscribed with a bold, elegant hand. _Dearest Charlotte,_ the letter began, _I was most perturbed to hear…should have written sooner…I have been on a great trip through the southern reaches of France…I should so like to have you with me to shake me out of my melancholy…a great number of balls where we may both read in a corner if the mood takes us._ Charlotte smiled in recollection. A subsequent memory of that particular ball crowded in on her and she took a deep breath to steady herself. 

She turned back to the letter with an effort. _My dear, if your parents can spare you, I beg that you come to visit as soon as you may, and if I cannot ease your heart, perhaps I can help to distract your thoughts – something perhaps more easily done in such a busy place as London. Perhaps it will help to know that persons you might wish to avoid are at present far from town due to the passing of Mrs C’s grandmother. This has naturally delayed certain matters until the Spring, although I hear that the lady herself is not too displeased as the Grand Event will now occur in the full swing of the Season._

Charlotte sighed. Both Mary and Georgiana were willing correspondents, but there seemed to be a tacit understanding in place that Certain Persons were not to be mentioned, nor certain plans alluded to. She didn’t know whether to be glad or miserable that Susan had no such scruples.

She had hoped that a three-month absence from Sanditon might have made her feelings for Sidney Parker fade away. Sometimes she found that she had not thought about him all day, only to be betrayed by treacherous dreams at night. Other times he was so real to her, she almost felt as though he was there beside her as she went about her daily tasks. And now his marriage was delayed, and now she must wait still longer to know that all hope was gone, and that she had no choice but to continue with her life. 

The door creaked and Alison peered into the room. “There you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Are you excited?”

Charlotte summoned up a smile. “Excessively.”

Alison’s face fell. “Don’t say that you’ve fallen into the mops again. You’re travelling to London in the morning to stay with one of the most fashionable ladies in town. Just think of all the adventures you’re going to have.”

Charlotte grimaced and refolded the letter. “I think I’ve had quite enough adventure for one year.”

Alison flopped on the window seat. “Stuff and nonsense. There’s always room for more.” She coughed, shifting her legs up beneath her. “Is it because That Man might be lurking behind a pillar somewhere?”

“Alison, please!” Charlotte felt her cheeks grow hot. 

“I know, I know. Family duty, honour, all of that nonsense. I still think he broke his word to you, even if he never truly said it.”

“He did not.” Charlotte felt familiar tears pricking at her eyes. “Even if he had, I cannot spend the rest of my life angry with him. It’s…it’s just too exhausting.”

“Oh, Charlotte.” Alison put her arms around Charlotte. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything at all. I’m sure he is all that is good and decent, and I shall endeavour not to hope that his horrid Mrs Campion plagues him for all eternity.”

Charlotte choked back a laugh. “I wish you will stop. We shall all of us go ahead in our lives as we must, and I will hope for happier times for everyone.”

Alison wrinkled her nose. “You are altogether too forgiving. Were it me, I should curse them until the day I died.” She grinned as Charlotte rolled her eyes. “However, I do not ever intend to fall in love, so I doubt I will be called upon to do so.”

Charlotte smiled as another memory tugged at her. “You cannot choose who you fall in love with. Lady Susan says it is an affliction.”

“I certainly hope I won’t. The whole business seems entirely disagreeable. I intend to make my own way in the world.”

Charlotte half-smiled, distracted by the great full moon suspended over the newly harvested fields. Somewhere out there the same moon was casting its light where Sidney Parker was. Where was he? Perhaps he was in Bedford Square, or maybe in the drawing room of Trafalgar House with Mary and Tom. Maybe instead he was in some unknown location with rich, silken people and his rich, silken betrothed.

“A penny for your thoughts, Charlotte.” Alison poked a stockinged foot at her.

Charlotte blushed. “I’m just thinking about the journey tomorrow.”

Alison slid off the window seat and pecked her sister on her forehead. “Of course you are. And I’m Lady Susan herself.” With a wink, she swept across the room, one arm holding an imaginary fan out in front of her. At the door, she looked back. “Maybe, he’s looking at the moon and thinking of you too.”

She ducked as a pair of Charlotte’s rolled up gloves flew over her head, and darted out of the room.

****

Had Charlotte but known it, in that moment Sidney Parker was indeed looking up at the moon and thinking of her. Leaning against an old stone balcony in a grand country house belonging to Eliza’s parents, he was engaged in a pleasant but ultimately futile attempt to recall the exact expression on her face when she had dismissed him out of hand at Lady Denham’s pineapple luncheon. There had been that little frown between her brows which he wanted to smooth away, and a slight roll of her eyes as she turned her back on him but the shape of her mouth, and her eyes seemed to escape him. 

Thinking about her like that was better, easier than remembering her kisses, or the way she had looked as he’d tried to start his proposal. He still couldn’t bear to recall the look on her face when he’d broken the news of his engagement to Eliza. But somehow the memory of their enthusiastic battles made him feel warm inside, even as they brought a lump to his throat. 

He exhaled a cloud of smoke into the night air. He had remained true to his unspoken promise to Charlotte and firmly turned away from the destructive nights of drinking, but his cheroots he could not forgo. Two weeks at Eliza’s ancestral home had been enough to try the patience of a saint, and at least escaping to a balcony to smoke allowed him a moment of peace amid the suffocating atmosphere.

A chill breeze fluttered across his face and he closed his eyes. Not for the first time, he wondered how he was going to manage this, how he was going to be able to stand up in front of God and all his witnesses and declare devotion to a woman he now regarded at best with indifference. He had tried to be happy, to be attentive and squire her through a succession of balls and parties, but inside he felt hollowed out. Eliza for her part seemed to blaze with triumph. She was unequivocally the queen of their social circle and seemed to relish having Sidney on her arm as she cut a swathe through the _Ton_. “Isn’t it delightful, dearest,” she said once, looking up at him with her wide blue eyes. “We’ve won. We’ve won everything.” She had kissed his mouth then, and he had received this affection with equanimity but had not responded to it. After a brief hesitation, she had giggled and rapped his hand with her fan, declaring him an infuriating man.

He sighed. Here was the real source of the problem. He didn’t want to be intimate with her. Being kissed by her felt all wrong. He didn’t feel any passion or excitement or desire to continue; it was just…there. He knew that she wanted more from him; he also knew with complete clarity that he could not give it to her. Unbidden, the image of Charlotte on the cliffs returned to him; he remembered kissing her with his whole heart and soul and thinking that he never wanted to stop. He gripped the stone balustrade and exhaled. In that moment, the pain of parting seemed as fresh as ever.

“Sidney? What are you doing out there?” 

He allowed himself a few seconds more, and then straightened up. Walking back through the drawing room windows, he saw Eliza sitting by the fire, wrapped up in a blanket. Her devoted abigail was fluttering around her with hot bricks and extra shawls.

Eliza flung out a hand as Sidney approached. “Don’t come any closer, I look frightful.” Her voice was croaky and nasal. “I suppose you’ve been smoking again. That will have to stop when we’re married.”

Sidney smiled tightly. “How are you feeling?”

Eliza coughed. “Absolutely wretched. I had intended for us to be back in London within the week, and now I’m going to miss the Farquarsons’ soirée _and_ Mrs Clairmont’s grand ball. It’s too bad!” This litany was interrupted by several sneezes.

“I’m sorry to hear it. With the loss of your grandmother, I imagine your suffering must be extreme.”

“Oh really, Sidney. You know very well that I didn’t care for her, nor she for me. She has very likely visited this cold upon me as her final revenge.” She paused. “Do you still mean to leave tomorrow morning?”

“I think I must. I have business in Sanditon which cannot wait.” 

She huffed and sank lower into the comforter. “Of course. It’s always Sanditon, isn’t it? I could almost fancy you prefer being there to being in London.” There was a bitter edge to her voice.

“I don’t believe that’s true. But Tom is there, and I must see him.”

“I’m sure,” Eliza responded. “It’s my money after all, being used to rebuild his ridiculous project.”

Sidney looked down at the floor, pushing his temper back. He tried for a gentle tone. “We are eternally grateful Eliza. And I believe with proper investment, you will see a return.” There was a silence. “Come, let me sit with you.”

She shook her head. “I do not wish you to take ill yourself, there is too much to do. Go away and play at sandcastles with your brother. I shall see you in London once I’m rid of this affliction. Lady Susan’s rout party is in two weeks and I am determined we shall be there. I intend to prevail upon Lady Babington to furnish us with an invitation.

Lady Susan. Another night, another ball and Charlotte in a gold dress. The thought of it made his voice crack. “Very well, Eliza. I give you my best wishes for your continued recovery.”

As he left the room, she called after him. “Sidney dear, do write to me. Won’t you?”

He bowed his head, all obedience. “Of course, madam.”

****

In London, two days later, Lady Susan’s fashionable barouche bowled into Hyde Park. Lady Susan leaned forward, a conspiratorial smile upon her face. “There, you see Charlotte. The fashionable hour. All of society is here for your inspection.”

Charlotte laughed, quite unable to believe her eyes. Everywhere she looked there were open carriages and horses, people hailing acquaintances and shaking hands. She hastily shifted her gaze away as an elderly dowager raised an eyeglass at her and looked her up and down. “I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”

Lady Susan patted her hand. “We are here to see and be seen. And you, my dear, deserve to be seen.”

Charlotte smoothed down her new spencer. At least she looked as if she fitted in, even if she did not feel it. Lady Susan had welcomed her to Cavendish Square with open arms and had instantly set about providing her with a new wardrobe and initiating her on the mysterious ways of the _Ton_. Over Charlotte’s protests she had raised a hand. “None of that. I never had a child of my own, and I beg you that you will let me spoil you, just a little.” Of Sanditon and the summer they had not spoken. Instead Susan had whisked her round all of the fashionable haunts and regaled her with rattling tales of society scandals which amused and appalled her in equal measure. 

A shout sounded near the carriage. Charlotte looked up to see a bevy of gentlemen in striped waistcoats waving their hats with great enthusiasm at their carriage. Lady Susan laughed and waved them over. “A great party of rakes, my dear. Most amusing fellows…if you don’t take them too seriously.”

The gentlemen had pulled up and were cantering alongside them with easy grace. “Gentlemen, well met,” said Lady Susan. “Pray let me make you known to my good friend Miss Heywood, who is visiting me from Sussex. Charlotte, this is Mr Kerridge, Sir Thomas Markham, Sir George Caxton and Lord Farrow.”

All four gentlemen tipped their hats politely and Lord Farrow immediately drew up his horse beside Charlotte.

“Miss Heywood! How do you like London? Have you visited before?” He met her eyes with an appealing, impish grin. 

Despite herself, Charlotte blushed. “I have visited once, my lord. I did not care for it very much, but I should like to change my mind.”

He laughed. “An honest answer, Miss Heywood. It is refreshing to hear something more than _Oh excessively sir_ from a young lady.”

Charlotte frowned. “But perhaps those young ladies do like it excessively, sir.”

Lord Farrow arranged his face into an expression of mock guilt. “I believe I have been admonished. You are very right Miss Heywood, I daresay I am too harsh upon them. Pray tell me how I may make amends.”

“Perhaps by being agreeable and listening attentively to what those young ladies are saying, rather than what you think they are saying.”

His eyebrows shot up at that. “Upon my word, Miss Heywood, I am not sure whether to be intrigued or offended.”

“Pray forgive me, my lord,” said Charlotte in some confusion. “I have a bad habit of expressing my opinions far too freely, and I…”

Lord Farrow laughed. “I beg you won’t give it a second thought. I was teasing you a little, and ask you to forgive me in turn.”

Charlotte didn’t know how to respond to this and could only nod. She felt utterly lost, as though she were playing a game where she didn’t know the rules. She felt relieved when Lady Susan waved an imperious hand at him. “You are mischievous, Lord Farrow. I pray you will go away now and stop teasing Miss Heywood so.”

Lord Farrow bowed. “I will ma’am, if I might call upon Miss Heywood soon?” He fixed blue eyes upon Charlotte. “I engage to listen to her with all attentiveness, and beg she will furnish me with all her bluntest opinions.”

Charlotte laughed and shook her head. He winked at her. “Until then.”

****

“Well, my dear, and how did you like Lord Farrow?”

Charlotte paused, with her teacup halfway to her lips. She had pondered this question all the way back to Cavendish Square. “Oh. I thought him very agreeable.”

“And very handsome too.”

“Very.”

Susan smiled. “I predict you will be a success, Charlotte. You have not been in London two days, and you already have an admirer.”

“Oh no, I’m sure that isn’t true.” Charlotte felt hot and cold all at the same time. The idea of any kind of romantic overtures, no matter how light, felt overwhelming.

Susan’s amused expression gave way to concern. “Are you feeling well, my dear?”

To her horror, Charlotte felt two large tears spilling onto her cheeks. “Perfectly well,” she said in a husky voice. “I‘m very happy and having a wonderful time.” Then Susan sat beside her and drew her onto her shoulder, and Charlotte cried harder than she ever had in her life.

“Oh my dear,” Susan said a little later as she stroked her hair. “The first heartbreak is always the hardest to take, and it does change us, try as we might to return to where we started.”

“I think it would have been easier if he hadn’t returned my feelings. But he did. And he still gave me up.”

Susan sighed. “He did. He was in an impossible position of course, but…I wish he had come to me.”

Charlotte sniffed. “He would never have asked. I don’t believe even his friends are aware of the circumstances.”

“Well, my dear. I did tell you once that the race was not yet won. He is not married and it is a long while until March. Something might yet be done.”

“He cannot withdraw from his engagement. She loves him and it would dishonour her altogether. I could not wish that upon anyone.”

“Hmmm. He is trapped, that is true. However, I have seen them over the course of these past months, and I don’t believe there is much love there. Not on his, and I’ll lay odds, not on hers either. She’s a lady who likes to have pretty things around her, and he is another such thing.”

Charlotte looked at her, appalled. “That cannot be true. Why would she agree to marry him if she did not love him?”

Susan smiled at her. “London society is…singular. Why does anyone marry unless it’s for money or position or power?”

“Then I think I was right in my first impression and I do not like London at all.” 

“That is a shame, for I believe London will like you very much.”

“Please don’t think me ungrateful. I truly am enjoying my visit, I didn’t mean…”

“I know very well what you meant. And so, let us enjoy everything London has to offer and ignore the things we dislike about it. And Charlotte…” she laid a hand on hers. “I do promise you that if a reunion with your Mr Parker is not to be, you will fall in love again. It will be different, but no less valuable or enjoyable.”

The following morning when Charlotte woke, she felt as though her soul had rejoined her body during the night. The dull ache near her heart that she had grown so used to was still there but perhaps faded a little. She found she could not fall into her usual sadness when there was so much to look forward to and to report on. Later she wrote a pelting letter to Alison, notifying her that London was much improved and she was bidden to a grand ball given by a lady by the name of Mrs Clairmont tomorrow night. After a pause, she added what she knew Alison would want to hear. _Lady Susan has been most kind and I have a new ballgown of rose-coloured silk_.


	3. Reunion, part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your lovely comments. This is the end of the first 'episode'. Future chapters will be all in one piece I think as it looks neater. I am off on a transatlantic trip (and intend to write on the plane) so the next installment will be available by the end of next week :-)

Later that morning, Sidney arrived at Trafalgar House and was immediately accosted by his brother who burst through the door and almost knocked him over.

“Sidney! Well met!” Tom was beaming and rubbing his hands. “After all these weeks, finally you are returned to us. You look very well indeed, I must say. How did you leave your dear Eliza?”

“Tom.” Sidney shook hands, disinclined to meet his brother’s high spirits. The journey to Sanditon inevitably took him past that infernal clifftop and he was still smarting from the recollections it brought him. “She has a cold.”

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear it. You should have brought her to Sanditon. There’s nothing like our sea air for curing a cold.”

Sidney ignored this. “I can only stay a day. I’ll take a look at the building work and we need to sign those contracts we discussed.” He looked cautiously into the hall. “I should probably see Georgiana before I go to London.”

“She’s gone down to the beach with Mary and the children. It was an excellent notion of yours; we’re very happy to have her live with us. They’ve all been quite down in the dumps since Charlotte left, but now they smile again.”

Sidney swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. “Quite. Shall we inspect the works?”

“Straight away! The changes we’ve made…you won’t believe your eyes, I promise you.”

For once, Tom made good on his promise; the new terrace stood gleaming proud against the blue, cloud-flecked sky. A short distance away, Mr Stringer and his men were starting to remove the scaffolding. “Ahoy gentlemen!” Tom cried, both hands in the air. The men turned and nodded, but Sidney marked a noticeable lack of enthusiasm on their part.

Tom coughed. “Still mending fences. They’ve been paid so we’ll all be friends again in no time, I’m sure of it.” 

“They’ve done a good job Tom.”

“Haven’t we? I declare it’s even better than it was before. With Eliza’s money we’ve been able to achieve so much more!”

Sidney looked down. He loved his brother but he was aware of a sudden urge to knock him down. “Tom…try to remember that a man died here. I’m glad the terrace has been rebuilt but let us not gloat about it, shall we?”

“Of course not, brother. Old Stringer’s death was a terrible, terrible tragedy. I don’t believe young Mr Stringer has been the same since. But we must take the positives where we can. Sanditon has risen from the ashes and you…” he put his hand on Sidney’s shoulder, “you have been reunited with your lost love. Surely that is all cause for celebration.”

Sidney paused for a long moment and then shook his head. “I don’t know what to say to you Tom.”

Tom frowned. “But surely…”

At that moment they were interrupted by Mr Stringer, striding grim-faced towards them. Relieved, Sidney extended his hand. “Mr Stringer. I’m glad to see you. You’ve done fine work here.”

Mr Stringer shook his hand for the briefest of seconds. “Thank you, Mr Parker. I did it for my father.”

“Of course.” Sidney had the oddest feeling that Mr Stringer was angry and that it was directed towards himself. “I’m still very sorry that such a disaster occurred. I hope you’re keeping well.”

“Well enough. More than I can say for some.”

Sidney knew he wasn’t imagining things; the look on Stringer’s face was bullish, as though he were spoiling for a fight. He looked round. Tom had wandered off and was even now poking at some of the elaborate mouldings with his walking cane. 

“Mr Stringer, if you have something to say, you may speak plainly.”

Stringer’s cheeks reddened but he met Sidney’s gaze square on. “We all of us are just trying to make a living, raise families, enjoy the place we grew up in. But the Parkers…” he shook his head. “One of you worked us to the bone on nothing more than empty promises, and the other…” 

Sidney blinked, surprised by Stringer’s mounting anger. “Me? What injury have I ever done to you.”

Stringer’s chest rose and fell and he seemed to struggle to get the words out. “I don’t speak about myself. We all liked Miss Heywood, you see. She was a good friend to me, and…well, I believe you used her very ill.”

Sidney felt as though a weight was crushing his chest. Anger mingled with shame and he struggled to contain the blistering retort on the tip of his tongue. “You know nothing about it.”

“I know all the happiness went out of her before she left. That you threw her over for a rich woman.”

“That is enough! I did not…You forget yourself, Mr Stringer.”

Stringer shrugged. “I’ve made up my mind that this will be my last job in Sanditon. I don’t rightly care what I say, or who too.”

Sidney massaged his eyes with one hand. It was one thing to live with his mistakes in private, but to have the whole unsavoury truth thrust in front of his face in public was quite another. He looked at Mr Stringer’s furious face. Charlotte’s defender. A better man than him to be sure. He swallowed. “My regrets, Mr Stringer, are many. The truth of the matter is that I had no choice.”

“Everyone has a choice, sir. Excepting Miss Heywood. It doesn’t sound to me like she had any choice at all in the matter.”

Tom was upon them once again before Sidney could respond. “Well, gentlemen. Are we not doing splendidly? The terrace is a marvel, Mr Stringer, an absolute marvel. Mr Stringer is to ride towards Brighton tomorrow to engage the services of a master stonemason. I have heard only the best things. He will set the polish upon our new houses, will he not?” He clapped Stringer on the back. “Mark my words, all of society will soon be clamouring to come here.”

Mr Stringer merely nodded and walked away. Tom took a deep breath and turned to Sidney with a hopeful grin. “See? Almost back to normal.”

It was as well for Sidney that Mary and the children were so delighted to see him back at Trafalgar House. After his bruising encounter with Young Stringer, he was obliged to sit through an uncomfortable interview with Georgiana, who alternatively refused to speak to him, and berated him in veiled terms about inconstancy and unfaithfulness and wicked guardians who left their wards friendless in a dismal, sandy town. Finally, she gave up all pretence.

“At least let me go and visit her. You have robbed me of my only friend, and now there is nothing to do but play with the children and take walks on the beach.”

“You do write to her, don’t you?”

“What use are letters? I cannot have a conversation in a letter. Please, if you will do nothing else, let me go?”

Sidney looked down. “Very well. I will ask Mary to write and ask if you can go.” Georgiana pursed her lips but nodded and made to leave the room. Sidney stopped her at the door. “Georgiana. Please believe that my intentions towards Charlotte were honourable. Circumstances…”

“Oh circumstances. So very convenient.” With this she swept from the room just as Mary entered. She looked at Sidney with a raised brow. He sighed and leaned against the mantelpiece.

“She’s been very good you know. The children adore her.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He paused. “Georgiana tells me that she would like to visit…that she would like to visit Willingden. Would you write and ask? I believe she misses her friend.”

“Charlotte, you mean?” There was an odd note in Mary’s voice. “Of course, I shall write this afternoon. I believe Tom’s foreman has some errands in that part of Sussex. I will see if I can prevail upon him to carry the message to her directly.”

Even as he nodded, Sidney felt a pang of jealousy. _Mr Stringer in Willingden. Mr Stringer seeing Charlotte, making her smile_. He realised Mary was speaking. “I beg your pardon, Mary, I was woolgathering.”

“I only wondered how you are?”

He avoided her gaze. “I’m perfectly well, thank you.” 

***

He left Sanditon the following morning as fast as he decently could. Hostility from Georgiana he had expected; hostility from Mr Stringer had been an unwelcome shock. And now he couldn’t remember Charlotte and smile, he could only remember her distress and her bravery and feel ill at his own cowardice. When he got back to Bedford Square he would shut himself away in the library with the brandy decanter and try to forget.

He reached home as the sun was setting. The butler met him in the hallway, bearing a twist of paper on a silver platter. “Lord Babington called earlier. I informed him that you would be arriving today.”

With a sinking heart, Sidney scanned the note. _Your man informs me that you are arriving home today alone._ This last word was underlined several times. _I haven’t seen you in an age, come to Mrs Clairmont’s this evening with us. Esther adds her entreaties! Yours, B_

Sidney, still in his greatcoat, immediately dashed off a note in response recommending that Babington go to the devil if he thought that the cure for a long journey was a hot, crowded ball. Then he stalked grandly into the library and shut the door with a decided click.

An hour later, a footman brought a reply: _We’ll fetch you in the carriage at 9 sharp. B._

The butler coughed discreetly. “Shall I inform your valet that you will be needing your evening dress laid out?”

Sidney groaned and slumped back in his chair. “Oh, why not. Better still, why don’t you apply to Lord Babington and ask him, I’m sure he has an opinion on the matter.”

His butler merely bowed. “Very good, sir.”

***

At Trafalgar House the drawing room door shut behind Mr Stringer, Mary’s letter to Charlotte tucked safely in his pocket. Tom stretched out in his chair. “Very obliging man, Mr Stringer. The journey to Willingden will extend his journey by some hours, but no word of a complaint will you hear from him.”

“To be sure,” Mary said absently. “I believe he was good friends with Charlotte.”

Tom winked at her. “Perhaps we’ve made a match, Mary.”

She didn’t reply, engaged in looking out of the window at the darkening sky. Presently, she spoke. “Do you think Sidney is happy?”

“Sidney? Of course, why would he not be?”

“I don’t know. I think…it seems to me that he has returned to his dour nature. When he had become so happy this summer.”

“No doubt he is missing Eliza. Once they are reunited, he will be back to his old self. You’ll see my dear. I am never wrong.”

Mary was still, but she was slipping her rings on and off her finger. “Perhaps we could prevail upon Charlotte to return to us, instead of Georgiana posting to Willingden.”

Tom shrugged. “If you choose, my dear. It’s always jolly to have a houseful of people. Shall I run after Stringer to bring a different message.”

“No.” Mary sighed. “It would likely do no good anyway.”

On that enigmatic note she retired to bed.

***

Mrs Clairmont’s ball was widely predicted to be the event of the autumn. It was rumoured that there was to be a lake filled with swans in one of the reception rooms, and that a thousand tiny ice sculptures had been carved for the occasion. Charlotte was somewhat disappointed, therefore, when neither of these promised wonders materialised. Lady Susan laughed and reminded her that London society thrived on outlandish rumours. “However, I do believe there will be a Scots piper at midnight.”

Despite the lack of swans, the scene took Charlotte’s breath away. Mrs Maudsley’s ball had seemed very grand at the time, but here it seemed that all of London was squeezed into a huge gilded ballroom as the heat from a thousand candles shimmered above them. Everything was too loud and too bright, and everyone seemed to be laughing far too much. Susan took her arm and steered her through the worst of the racket. “You see, my dear, the trick with these parties is to know where the quiet nooks are to be found.” At that, she whisked Charlotte into a corner near to an open balcony window. A welcome breeze stirred at Charlotte’s elaborately-set curls. 

“I’m not sure I shall dance tonight, Susan. I can’t even see the floor of the ballroom there are so many people.”

“If you wish it. However, I fear Lord Farrow is about to put your resolve to the test.”

Charlotte turned. Lord Farrow was bearing down on them, a winning smile on his lips. “Lady Susan! Miss Heywood! How charming to run into you both.”

Lady Susan raised an amused brow. “Lord Farrow. What a surprise. I quite thought you meant to be out of London this week.”

“I found myself unaccountably detained.” Lord Farrow grinned boyishly, but Charlotte noticed his ears had turned a little red. “Miss Heywood, I am in hopes of hearing more of your direct opinions this evening. May I beg the honour of the next two dances?”

Charlotte only hesitated for a brief moment before accepting his proffered arm. He was handsome and charming and he had a ready smile which she told herself was most welcome compared with persons who marched around spreading their ill-humours to all and sundry. Her conversation with Susan was still fresh in her head and it seemed that it was time to leave her girlish fancies in the past and grow up a little. So when Lord Farrow begged her earnestly to tell him what she thought of Mrs Clairmont’s excessively ruffled gown, she laughed and put Sidney Parker firmly from her mind.

***

As fate would have it, Sidney Parker was, at that precise moment, standing on the other side of the packed ballroom, raining curses down upon Babington’s head. 

“I knew this would be a terrible evening. An infernal squeeze surrounded by the most gaping set of gudgeons I’ve ever had the misfortune to encounter.” He glanced over at Babington. “Present company excepted of course.”

Babington laughed. “Naturally. Come now, isn’t it better to be amongst company instead of burying yourself in the brandy bottle?”

“I had no intention of doing any such thing.”

“Hmmm.” Babington was looking at his wife who was in the middle of a gaggle of matrons and appeared vastly bored by all of them.

Sidney followed his gaze. “So, how is married life?”

A smile lingered on Babington’s lips. “A constant surprise. She is an exceptional woman, my wife.”

“Well, she loves you a great deal and I am happy to see it, Babs.”

“I hope so.” There was a dry note in Babington’s voice. “Perhaps it would be nice to hear it from her own lips once in a while.”

“I’m no great expert in love as you know, but I see her look at you. I don’t think you have much to worry about there.”

Babington smiled more broadly. “Thank you, old friend.” He hesitated. “Speaking of which…we haven’t had much of a chance to talk since I returned from my honeymoon. I do hope…that is, is everything alright?”

Sidney flushed. “Why does everyone keep asking me that?”

“Perhaps this isn’t the place. But, I’ve known you a long time and I saw how happy you were at midsummer.” Sidney made an impatient movement, but Babington persisted.

“If it pains you, I won’t continue. But just tell me this. Did she refuse you? Because otherwise I cannot account for such a change of heart. And please don’t tell me that you love Eliza because I won’t believe you.”

Sidney wanted to be far away from the ballroom, from London and from England. Briefly he considered making a run for the coast. He’d managed to keep his feelings in check all these months and he could not understand why everybody he knew was suddenly desperate to rake them all up again. He smiled tightly. “It would have been easier if she had refused. I never had the chance to propose. I started but…” He shook his head. “That infernal Edward Denham was making trouble and then the fire started.”

“But afterwards?”

Sidney shook his head. “No insurance.”

“What?”

“My brother did not insure the building works on the terrace.” He spoke with bitter deliberation.

Babington’s mouth fell open. “I don’t believe it.”

“Neither did I. His pockets were pretty much to let to the tune of £80,000.” He paused as Babington choked on his wine. “I didn’t know what else to do – it wasn’t just Tom you see, but Mary and the children.”

“And Miss Heywood?”

“I told her what I’d had to do. If I could rip that memory out of my head…” He exhaled.

“But you still love her?”

Sidney swallowed. “There’s no use thinking like that. We will likely not meet again, and I must be glad of it for her sake.”

Esther had disentangled herself from the matrons and was approaching them. Babington whispered hurriedly, “Let’s meet tomorrow. At our old haunt in Wapping. I won’t believe that we cannot solve this somehow.”

Sidney smiled grimly. “I appreciate your optimism, Babs, if not your sense of reality. Lady Babington! How do you do?”

Esther raised a delicate brow. “Mr Parker. Tolerably well. No doubt Babington has been talking your ear off about Venice. I never saw a man so in love with a town.”

“Indeed, Babs?” Sidney raised a brow.

“It was very romantic.”

Esther rolled her eyes, but the look she threw her husband was all affection. “There was too much water.” 

Babington grinned. “As well have honeymooned in Sanditon for all Esther cared. How about a dance?”

Esther adjusted her gloves. “To be sure, but not with you my love. You have already had your two dances this evening, and it won’t do to spend the whole night with my husband.” She arched a brow. “Mr Parker, would you care to take to the floor?”

Sidney looked at Babington who waved a hand at him. “Go and enjoy yourself. It’s about time you did.”

Esther sent a knowing smile in the direction of her husband and laid her hand on Sidney’s. “Lead on then.”

They were obliged to navigate through the teaming sea of couples, Sidney’s mind still very much on his conversation with Babington. As they stopped to allow a party of inebriated bucks roll past, he turned round to Esther to say “Country dance is it?”

“Yes, exceedingly dull.”

He laughed and turned back just in time to stop them from walking straight into another couple. He opened his mouth but his polite _excuse me_ died on his lips. The lady in front of him stared up at him; the shock on her face he knew must be mirrored in his own. From somewhere far away, he heard Lady Babington exclaim, “Why, Miss Heywood!”

He made to speak then, but no words came out. He could only take in her dear face, the wide dark eyes and the curve of her cheek, blooming with a sudden colour. He was utterly, utterly lost.


	4. An Understanding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the lovely comments, and here is the next chapter. I'll be aiming to post one every week from now on, time and work permitting.
> 
> Not being an expert in Regency dances, the one described below is not particularly authentic, but a sort of mash-up of all the ones I've seen in various Austen adaptations. Hope you enjoy!

Charlotte felt as if all the breath had left her body. The ballroom seemed emptied of people and noise, and she could only gaze up into his face. She had conjured up the image of him so often and now here he was, large and real and so close she could see his thick black lashes casting shadows over his eyes. He was looking down at her with a fierce intensity. She saw his lips shape her name, but no sound came out. Her own heart was beating so hard she could feel it in her throat. 

Dimly she heard Esther’s greeting and became aware of Lord Farrow beside her, his voice raised in delight. Sidney blinked and glanced over at him. When he looked back, his gaze was directed somewhere over her shoulder, and the shock on his face had melted away to his usual enigmatic expression.

“Why Parker, it’s been an age. How the devil are you? And Lady Babington. I hope you have that husband of yours well in hand?” Lord Farrow dispensed smiles towards all. “And may I present Miss Heywood. She is visiting Lady Susan at present, and I am determined she shall come away at least half in love with London.”

“Indeed.” Esther raised an amused brow at Charlotte. “We are well acquainted with Miss Heywood, are we not, Mr Parker?”

Charlotte collected herself. “Yes, very well acquainted. I’m very happy to see you again Lady Babington.”

“Esther.”

“Esther, of course. And Mr Parker, I hope you are well?” Charlotte addressed his shoulder, unable to look up into his face again.

Sidney bowed. “Yes, thank you. I hope you are in good health.”

His voice was deeper than she remembered. She felt goosebumps rippling across her arms. “Yes, I thank you.” She turned to Lord Farrow. “I spent the summer in Sanditon you see and made a great many friends. I don’t think I can remember a happier time.” She could hear herself speaking far too fast.

Esther looked arch. “Miss Heywood is too kind to us. I don’t believe there are many truly good people in Sanditon. Although I believe your sister-in-law to be the best of us, Mr Parker.”

Lord Farrow frowned. “Sanditon. I believe I’ve heard Lady Susan speak of it. She managed to drag Markham and poor George Caxton down there to attend some sort of boat race. George was shaking sand out of his boots for weeks afterwards. But I see it has captured Miss Heywood’s heart, eh Miss Heywood?”

Charlotte was relieved of the necessity of a response by the announcement of the next dance. Lord Farrow beamed. “Shall we make a four and join this set do you think? More fun to dance with acquaintances isn’t it?”

Far too late, Charlotte realised that the coming dance required the regular switching of partners. But Esther was already sweeping into line with Sidney and there was no time to do anything apart from stand beside them and pray for all the courage in the world to see her through.

The opening bars of the music struck up and Charlotte curtseyed automatically towards Lord Farrow. She kept her eyes firmly forward and tried to school her expression into a kind of bland amusement. Out of the corner of her eye she was intensely aware of Sidney, standing next to Lord Farrow in the line and seeming to dwarf every other man around him. The dance was of the more stately variety, and as she began to walk through the figures, moving back and forth with Lord Farrow, she and Sidney brushed past each other, her rose silk skirt catching momentarily against his legs. Round they went again and her shoulder grazed his upper arm. She felt it tighten at the contact, and she risked a glance upwards. His gaze was fixed firmly forward and he was exchanging light conversation with Esther. She took a deep breath and tried to respond to Lord Farrow’s own observations with at least the appearance of interest.

Then the next figure started and all four of them turned in to form a circle. Sidney’s face was still carefully blank but a telltale muscle quivered at the corner of his mouth. He extended his hand and Charlotte took it, hoping that neither of their companions saw it shake as she did so. They stepped towards each other, arms raised above their heads and, momentarily shielded from the other dancers, their eyes met and his gaze was so tender she felt tears pricking at her lids. They stepped back, hands still joined and then as Charlotte tried to turn under his arm, they bumped against each other.

Charlotte gasped quietly. “Oh I’m sorry.”

A reassuring hand held her waist for a moment. Sidney lowered his head towards her ear, sending heat flooding into her cheeks. “Don’t be. My fault entirely.”

Right hand joined to right hand and they turned on the spot. His eyes were still warm and Charlotte found she did not want to look away. She needed to say something, anything to break the intensity of the atmosphere between them. Her voice cracking more than she would like, she settled on, “How is your family Mr Parker?”

“Well, thank you Miss Heywood. Arthur and Diana are away consulting another doctor in Tunbridge Wells.” His mouth twitched at her expression. “Quite. And Tom is…full of plans. As ever he was.”

They turned to face down the room for the promenade. Sidney took her left hand in his and placed his right hand on Charlotte’s back. All Charlotte’s conversation flew instantly from her head, and she could only respond with, “Oh.” Then, “I’m glad to hear it.”

The conversation dwindled to a halt as they progressed down the set. She turned under his arm once again, and they made their way back where Esther and Lord Farrow were waiting to begin. In a low voice, just before they parted, Sidney responded, “I try to be glad too.”

At the end of the figure, the couples parted company and Charlotte was conscious of mingled relief and disappointment. To be in such close proximity to him was a shock, but if she were being entirely honest with herself, she was not surprised. Perhaps she had even expected it, or perhaps it was simply that the notion of never seeing Sidney Parker again was so truly ridiculous, she had never quite believed it.

“Woolgathering, Miss Heywood?”

Her head jerked up. Lord Farrow was regarding her with a quizzical air. “Oh. I beg your pardon, my lord. It is rather hot, that’s all.”

“And no wonder, with such a scrimmage around you. You will learn, Miss Heywood, that only the most uncomfortable evenings are deemed a success in London society. And now I feel you are about to tell me that it makes no sense at all.”

“It does feel like up is down, and down is up, does it not?”

His eyes gleamed. “And there lies the wonderful conundrum of my world.” He paused. “However, I suspect you are dreaming of the sea breezes of Sanditon.”

She laughed and shook her head, and he grinned at her. He was an attentive and charming companion; as Charlotte went down the dance again, she tried to imagine how she might feel if she had never met Sidney. Would she like Lord Farrow? Would she think about him and look forward to seeing him? Or would she still feel this vague disquiet in the pit of her stomach – that as delightful as he was, she knew that her heart would remain untouched by him. And why was that? He was handsome and gentlemanly and always seemed to be in a cheerful mood? Alison would roll her eyes and declare her too difficult to please by half.

As the dance drew to a close, they found themselves back with Sidney and Esther for the final promenade. All four joined hands to go down the room, and Charlotte realised that it was no use thinking about a world without Sidney in it; he took up all the space in this one. He was holding her hand lightly in his own, but she could feel the heat from his touch right through her new kid gloves.

They walked in silence, but as the music slowed to a close his fingers tightened around hers. Head and heart did battle; her heart won. She tightened her own fingers in response. Then the dancers parted, the original lines were re-formed and the dance ended to polite applause. The imprint of his hand lingered long after.

Esther slipped an arm through hers straight away. “Come along Charlotte. My poor Babington is no doubt kicking his heels in the refreshment room and I’m sure he would be delighted to see you.” She cast a glance behind her. “Will you follow us?”

“To the ends of the earth, Lady Bab,” said Lord Farrow with a flourish. Charlotte caught an almost imperceptible eyeroll from Sidney and suppressed the laugh that suddenly bubbled up inside her.

In the general crush, none of them had noticed a lady and gentleman following their progress. The lady, whose eyebrows were painted into a permanent expression of disguise, raised elegant lorgnettes. “Edward, dear, who is that little brunette with Lady Babington?”

Her companion was leaning back against the wall with folded arms. “I do believe that is Miss Heywood. I met her once during a brief sojourn at a damp little hole called Sanditon.”

His lady pursed her lips. “Intriguing.”

“It wasn’t. A dismal place, I assure you.” He put his face close to hers with what he hoped was a dashing grin. “And Miss Heywood is a country nobody, with nothing surprising about her. Quite unlike you, dearest Letty.”

She tittered and rapped his hand with her fan. “You may well say that, but Lord Farrow is trailing after her like a lovesick spaniel, and as for Sidney Parker…”

“Oh, that prig.”

“Didn’t you see the way he was looking at her? Lord, Eliza Campion would be as mad as fire to see it.”

“That rich widow? What has she to do with anything?”

“How can you not have heard! She is engaged to Sidney Parker. Their wedding is like to be the event of the season.”

Edward pulled a sour face. “Well, well. How _nice_ for him. It would serve him right if someone did tell his Mrs Campion that he’s squiring Miss Heywood around town. Let him feel what it’s like to lose a fortune in the space of an hour.”

“You know them well, then?”

“Oh no. Nodding acquaintances. Barely. Tell me about my dear sis, Lady Babington. You must have juicy tidbits about her? Has she driven her husband to bedlam yet?”

“ _You_ know she’s a cold sort, so naturally she’s become the toast of London. No scandals there. Unless you know of any?” She smiled at him rather hungrily.

Edward raised his quizzing glass again, watching Lady Babington as she disappeared into the supper room. “My dear Letty, everyone has a scandal lurking somewhere, although I shouldn’t dream of talking ill of my own relative, even as estranged as we are.” He winked. “Did you say Farrow was part of their set?”

“He certainly knows them. He knows everyone.”

“How absolutely marvellous.” He kissed her hand. “I must away.”

She grasped his sleeve. “Oh, but…will I see you later? My husband returns home next week and I do not know when we might next be alone.”

He put a finger under her chin. “Alas, my affairs of business are such that I shall be positively entombed for the next several days. But I shall dream of you constantly.”

***

As Esther had predicted, they found Babington in the supper room in close conversation with Lady Susan. A full plate of food lay untouched by his side. As the party approached, he leapt up.

“Miss Heywood, how pleased I am to see you here. Lady Susan was just telling me that you are here on a long visit.” His eyes slid briefly to Sidney standing silently behind her. “How did you find the dance?”

“Very crowded,” replied Charlotte with a smile. “But I enjoyed it for all that.”

There was a general laugh. “A shocking squeeze,” replied Babington, winking at his wife. “I don’t know how I let myself be dragged here.”

“Shocking indeed, my dear, since it was you who insisted on coming.”

Lord Farrow rubbed his hands. “Well, it looks like a tolerable spread, wouldn’t you say? Shall we fetch some sustenance for the ladies, Parker?”

Sidney bowed. “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to stay longer; I have business that needs my urgent attention.”

“Business,” said Babington with a frown. “It’s nearly midnight. What on earth needs doing now?”

Sidney hesitated a fraction too long. “Just…contracts. Things of that nature cannot wait. You’ll excuse me Babs.” He bowed to the group. “Lady Babington, Lady Susan. Miss Heywood…please excuse me.” Their eyes met for a moment, and then he disappeared into the crowd.

Lady Susan put her hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. “My dear, you are fatigued. Come and sit down, and let Lord Farrow find some refreshments for you. Lord Farrow?”

“At once, my lady.” He bowed and bustled off with his customary good humour.

Lord Farrow shouldered his way through the hordes buzzing around the refreshment table, and thinking pleasant thoughts about Miss Heywood’s large, dark eyes and how she had blushed during the dance. One might almost be inclined to make a more serious advance, except that his discreet enquiries had revealed that her birth was not high. The more time he spent in her company however, the more he was minded to put all that nonsense to one side and pursue her hand. With these agreeable thoughts clouding his view, he collided with a fashionable young man coming in the other direction.

“I do beg your pardon, sir”

The gentleman had wild blond curls and a winning smile. “Farrow! What a pleasant surprise.”

Lord Farrow’s face went white. “Denham. What the devil are you doing here.”

Edward pulled his mouth down in mock sadness. “Not a very enthusiastic welcome. You would think after everything which has occurred…”

“Of course.” Lord Farrow extended his hand, schooling his features into a smile. “How do you do?”

“Oh very well, very well. I daresay I am not as plump in the pocket as I could be, but I try to keep my spirits up.”

Lord Farrow’s shoulders slumped. “How much?” he asked quietly.

“My dear chap.” Edward put an arm around his shoulders and walked with him to a corner of the room. “I don’t ask for money. Well, not this time at any rate. I just require an introduction. Such a simple thing.”

“An…an introduction?”

“Why yes. I am most desirous of a meeting with dear Lady Babington. Preferably without that oaf of a husband of hers hovering around her.”

“Lady Bab? Why would you…?”

“I have my reasons, all of them _excellent_.”

Lord Farrow frowned. “I can’t do what you ask, it isn’t at all proper. Trap a gently-born lady into a meeting she doesn’t know about. Babington would have my head.”

Edward sighed. “True, very true. In that case, perhaps it would be better for me to reveal certain circumstances which took place in Rotherhithe not so long ago. I am particularly acquainted with Letty Fox you know. If she found out, it would be around the _ton_ in the space of an hour.”

Lord Farrow inserted a finger in his necktie, his face red. “Nobody would believe you.”

“Well then, you have nothing to worry about. I’ll be on my way then. Dear Letty is expecting me.”

As he made to leave, Lord Farrow put out a hand. “Wait. Perhaps I can…look, a group of us fellows are riding to Turnham Green tomorrow to see a prize fight. Why don’t you join us? We can speak on the road.”

“Well.” Edward tapped his lips with his quizzing glass. “How could I refuse such a kind invitation. I will if you don’t mind.”

Lord Farrow took a deep breath. “Excellent. We start from the George at London Bridge tomorrow at midday.”

“Midday it is. Farrow, you are a gentleman.” Edward clapped him on the back. “And let’s have no word of this getting back to Lady Babington shall we. Else I might become distressingly loose-lipped.” With this parting shot, he sauntered off and disappeared into the crowd.

Lord Farrow felt himself go hot and cold all at once. Wild ideas chased through his head of having Edward Denham drugged and thrown into the Thames. The thought of having his past dredged up for all society to pick over was too much. Something needed to be done. Shaking off this unsettling encounter, he made his way to the refreshments, prepared to do battle for the remnants of the ham.

***

Sidney arrived back at Bedford Square feeling the blood pounding through his body. Perhaps he shouldn’t have left, but he could see her confusion and discomfort and he hadn’t wanted to make things worse. No, it had been for the best. The sensation of being so close to her had almost cracked his resolve. For one heady moment as they had come face to face during the dance, he had thought of calling off the engagement, throwing Tom to the wolves and running off with her _, throwing her over your saddle bow no doubt_ , he thought with a wry smile.

He could still feel the sensation of her hand in his. This could have been his life, if he’d only spoken up sooner, if he’d taken his chance on the cliffs or told Tom to go to the devil. Not for the first time he cursed Edward Denham and his damned interruptions. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He knew what he needed to do. Babington and the inn at Wapping would have to wait.

He was too full of newly-stirred feelings and memories to sleep. Brandy seemed the only sensible solution. Throwing open the door of the library, he stopped dead in his tracks.

“Sidney!” Arthur rolled across the room and enveloped his brother in an amiable bear hug. Diana leapt up from a chair by the fire where she had been nursing a cup of something evil-looking.

“Arthur? Diana, what the devil are you doing here? It’s after midnight.”

“It’s dreadfully late,” conceded Diana. “Our coach broke a linchpin on the road, and I thought we might stay at one of the inns, but not one of them had the China tea I needed for my tincture and so I said to Arthur that we must press on.”

“And press on we did,” said Arthur with great good humour.

Sidney blinked. “Tincture?”

“Yes.” Diana was positively beaming. “The most wonderful physician in Tunbridge Wells, give you my word. He saw instantly how it was with both of us and prescribed us these drops straight away. They are most effective in raising the spirits and reducing cankers. We are to take three drops twice a day, mixed with pure China tea, and I could not retire without having taken my second dose.”

Arthur raised his glass with a wide grin. “I take mine with a little port.”

Sidney, bereft of words, dropped into the nearest armchair. Arthur cocked his head. “You look different, brother.”

“What?”

“You know…different. You have a healthy colour. Have you been exercising?”

“I went to a ball.”

“Ah. Dancing. Nothing like dancing for getting the blood up.”

Sidney could not disagree with this. He marched over to the brandy decanter and poured a decent measure. “So, what next then? Are you going on to Sanditon to harass Dr Fuchs?”

Diana protested, but Arthur giggled. “How well you know us. We were discussing that very thing. But we intend to stay in London for a month or so I daresay. Why don’t we all take a jaunt down to the river tomorrow afternoon?”

Sidney downed his brandy and suppressed a cough. “I won’t be able to join you. I have urgent business in...in the city.” He relented at Diana’s disappointed face. “I daresay we could go to the theatre in the evening if you have the inclination.”

Arthur clapped him on the back so hard he almost dropped his glass. “Capital notion. Shall we have comedy, or do you prefer a Drury Lane tragedy?”

Sidney refilled his brandy glass. “Definitely a tragedy.”

***

Much later, as dawn broke over the elegant houses of Mayfair, Lady Babington slipped into bed and placed her hand on her husband’s chest. “I know you’re not asleep.”

There was a pause. “No, you don’t.”

She rolled her eyes. “Be serious Babington, I want to talk to you.”

He yawned. “My darling girl, it’s almost five in the morning. Let’s talk later.”

She lay down beside him, nuzzling his neck. “I discovered something this evening.”

“Did you my dear?” Babington’s voice was drowsy.

“And you knew about it.”

He blinked and came to. “Knew about it? Know about what?”

“I know a fool in love when I see one. You should tell Mr Parker to be more discreet. What if word were to get back to his betrothed?”

Babington sat up. “Discreet? What do you mean?”

“My dear. Sidney and Charlotte clapped eyes on each other and almost turned to stone. I am amazed Lord Farrow didn’t notice. And what I do not understand, and I suspect you do is when this all happened, and how Mr Parker came to entangle himself with that Mrs Campion.”

Babington’s mouth twitched. “You don’t like her overmuch, do you?”

“She is all sweetness and flattery when she feels I will be useful to her. We went to the park a month ago and it felt as though she were parading me around like a prize. _Look at my companion. Her husband knows the Prince Regent_.” She said this in a high, sour little voice and Babington gave a shout of laughter. She smiled at him in the half-light and caressed his cheek. “So, my dear. What do you know?”

He sighed. “The whole situation is…complicated, and it involves more people than Sidney. I can’t tell you without breaking confidences my love, but I can tell you that strong feelings developed between him and Miss Heywood in the summer. Now he’s miserable and I intend to do everything in my power to make things right.”

She moved away and pulled the sheets over her shoulders. “Apart from share the whole burden with your wife.”

“Please don’t. It isn’t my burden to share.”

She considered this. “And if you do make it right. What of Charlotte?”

He was silent for a long time. “Only she can tell you that.”

***

The following day dawned fair and bright and the sun was high in the sky when Edward Denham and his party of newfound companions trotted into the pretty town of Turnham Green. He was in an unaccountably good mood, despite the lack of sleep pulling at the back of his eyes. For once he wasn’t feeling the effects of several bottles of wine, his fellow horsemen were an amusing crowd, and he hadn’t been obliged to bed Letty either. Keeping her sweet was becoming increasingly arduous. It might well be time to seek out a new mistress or at least find another way of keeping his purse full.

Lord Farrow turned in the saddle, avoiding Edward’s eye. “We’ve a good few hours before the fight. Shall we sink a few at the Old Pack?”

Edward raised his brows. “I thought you might have given up drink after what happened this summer, Farrow.”

“What?” Lord Farrow looked just like a trapped hare.

Edward laughed out loud. “Gentleman, I give you my word, I saw Farrow tip eight ales down his neck and fall asleep on the floor of a very dirty inn at Rotherhithe. Absolutely shocking, I assure you.”

There was a general laugh which, after a pause, Lord Farrow joined in. They stabled their horses and strode into the tap room. Foaming pints of ale and a good joint of ham took the edge of Edward’s fatigue. He had a new set to run around with, and new information to play with. It hadn’t taken long for him to discover that that simpleton Farrow was nursing a severe _tendre_ for Miss Heywood, that Lady Babington was generally held to be unfashionably happy with her ridiculous husband and that gossip abounded about Sidney Parker and how indifferent he seemed towards his future bride. He was uninterested in the Parker clan as a whole, but he still remembered the undignified way Sidney had thrown him out of Sanditon, more or less ordering him onto the stage as if he were a misbehaving child. If an opportunity for revenge presented itself, he would not pass it by.

He soon needed to relieve himself and set off down the hall to locate somewhere more secluded. As he passed by one of the private rooms, he heard the landlord say, “And there you are Mrs Campion. Our finest ham, with bread and butter made by my own wife.

A voice, rather husky, replied. “Very good. And I should like a room for the night if you please. I have been unwell and am not inclined to travel further today.”

Edward peered through the crack of the door frame. The landlord was bowing so low his nose was almost touching his knees. In a ragged velvet chair by the table sat an exquisitely dressed lady, with a china doll face marred only by the downward turn of her mouth and the redness around her nose. Edward held his breath. Was this truly _the_ Mrs Campion who was engaged to that fool Sidney Parker and who was somehow being supplanted by that blushing little milksop. “The luck of the Denhams,” he murmured to himself in triumph. As the landlord sidled out and turned his back, Edward slipped into the room.

“Mrs Campion!” He exclaimed. “Do pardon the intrusion. I am connected with the Babingtons and thought I should introduce myself. I have heard _so_ much about you.”

***

Later that afternoon in Cavendish Square, Charlotte was trying and failing to compose a letter to Alison, relating the events of the ball and attempting to sound airily unaffected by the whole experience. She hovered her pen over the words _I happened to run into Mr S_ and paused, words escaping her. A great blot of ink splattered on to the page and she threw her pen down with an irritated exclamation.

Lady Susan looked up from her book with a pained expression. “My dear, what has the pen done to offend you do.”

Charlotte abandoned the writing desk and wandered over to a chair by the fire, pulling at a stray thread on her sleeve. “I am out of sorts today.”

“Unsurprising,” remarked Lady Susan with a gentle smile.

“Yes, I suppose so. I am glad that the first meeting is over. But now I feel as though I’m looking over my shoulder whenever I leave the house. This morning I saw a man who I thought _was_ him and I wanted to turn and run in the other direction. Except that I also _didn’t_ want to run either.”

Lady Susan closed her book. “Would you prefer to leave London my dear? Oh, I don’t mean to send you away, but we could make a short journey. Brighton is still amusing at this time of year, and I have a friend there.”

“Oh.” Charlotte considered this for a moment. “No, I think I would feel as if I was running away. And I don’t see why I should. I haven’t done anything wrong after all.”

“Bravo, my dear. Then we shall remain here and parade around town in our best outfits.”

As Charlotte laughed, the bell downstairs sounded. Lady Susan threw a knowing look at her. “Lord Farrow, I presume.”

However, in this she was wrong. When the butler came in and presented a card to Lady Susan, she was disturbed from her customary composure. “My goodness.”

Charlotte looked up. “What is it?”

“My dear, you must decide if we shall receive our visitor or send our regrets.” She passed the card to Charlotte. _Mr Sidney Parker_ was inscribed on it in bold letters.

Charlotte stood up, her heart beating hard. “What is he doing here?”

“I don’t know. You may ask him if you choose.”

“Yes. No. I mean, I don’t know.”

Lady Susan did not reply. Charlotte took a deep breath and turned to her. “Yes. But pray don’t leave me.”

“If I feel it is appropriate, I will retire to the back of the room. But I won’t leave you, I promise.”

Sidney followed the butler into the drawing room, looking grave. Charlotte’s heart fluttered. She didn’t know if there would ever be a time that she would be able to look at him without feeling as if all the bones had disappeared from her body.

He bowed. “Lady Susan. Thank you for receiving me, I am grateful.” His voice softened. “Miss Heywood.”

Charlotte curtseyed. “Mr Parker.” She sat down on the sofa, not liking the way her legs were trembling. She felt slightly annoyed that he seemed so composed.

“Well, Mr Parker. We were sorry that you were unable to stay long at the ball last night.” Lady Susan waved him towards a chair.

He took a seat on the edge of a hard-looking velvet cushion. “Indeed. I wanted to come and apologise for leaving you so abruptly. And of course, to enquire after Miss Heywood’s health.” He addressed Charlotte directly and the intent look was back in his eyes. “I was not expecting…that is, I was very glad to see you last night. I hope you are recovered from the festivities.”

“Oh. Yes, thank you. I believe it was the grandest ball I have ever attended.”

Lady Susan was regarding Sidney with an unreadable expression. “Although fewer places to escape than the last one we all attended together. Poor Charlotte was quite overheated by the time she came into supper.”

Charlotte and Sidney exchanged a glance. Both reddened. “Indeed ma’am,” said Sidney with an attempt at levity. “I believe Mrs Clairmont is famous for the size of her guest list.”

“Exclusivity is such an underrated quality,” murmured Lady Susan with a touch of acid in her voice. She looked between Charlotte and Sidney and then rose. “If you will excuse me, Mr Parker, I have urgent letters to write over in that corner. Perhaps you might keep Miss Heywood company?”

He rose to his feet. “Of course Lady Susan.” Then after a pause. “Thank you.”

She looked him over but evinced no response other than a “hmmm.” Then she retired, leaving Charlotte in a state of absolute confusion. This was the first time she had been alone with Sidney since their moment on the cliffs at Sanditon. The thought took her breath away. She leapt up and moved towards the window.

He looked over at her and hesitated. As the silence grew awkward he finally spoke. “Your family, Miss Heywood, are they well?”

“Yes – yes, very well. Thank you.”

“Yes? All of them…all of them in health?”

A laugh escaped her; she couldn’t help it. “They are all in excellent health, sir.”

He gave a rueful grin in response and rubbed his forehead. “I can’t sit here and exchange polite nothings as though we barely knew each other. May we speak honestly?”

She nodded. “Perhaps it isn’t proper, but I should welcome it.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He looked down at his hands. “Charlotte..”

She shook her head imperceptibly. He collected himself. “Miss Heywood. I should apologise. I don’t think I conducted myself as I should have last night. Seeing you in the middle of a London ballroom…I had not expected...”

She took a step towards him. “Nor I. I had been informed that you were away from town with Mrs Campion. Please believe, I had no idea of you being in London.”

He smiled wryly. “You couldn’t bear the thought that you might see me.”

Charlotte felt a flash of the old anger in the pit of her stomach. “You know very well that is not what I meant.”

All pretence fell away. “Yes of course I know. I’m a bitter fool. Forgive me.”

She looked down at the floor. “I always do.”

There was a pregnant silence. “Charlotte, I’m sorry. If I could take back the last few months I would, in a heartbeat.”

“But you can’t. This is the life we’ve been given and we have to live it. I won’t spend my days in regret and sadness. I _refuse_ to.”

He smiled at that. “I would never wish that for you. Only the greatest happiness.”

She laughed and crossed her arms over her waist. “Perhaps I will find it one day.”

“Are you…are you happy now?”

She met his gaze directly and a little sadly. “Sometimes.”

“You will be again.”

She shook her head. “That isn’t for you to determine. When my visit is over, I will return to Willingden and you will marry and make a life with your bride. We both us will have to find our way by ourselves.”

Silence divided them. He moved and Charlotte though for a second that he might close the space between them, but only nodded and placed his hands firmly behind his back.

“Miss Heywood, what I came to tell you was that I am going to leave London for a little while.”

She was conscious of her heart plummeting. “Because you cannot bear to see me?”

“Now who’s making assumptions? You know very well that if I could choose, I would want to see you every single day of my life.” He spoke softly, his eyes fixed on hers. “What I do not wish is for you to spend your visit being uncomfortable. I thought perhaps if I went away it would be better for both of us.”

“Would it? I thought I should never see you again, and yet I still write to Mary and to Georgiana and I cannot believe that I will never again set foot in Sanditon. I have realised that we would have met again one day. What good will running away from each other do now?”

He almost bristled. “I am not running away.”

“Well then you have more fortitude than I. When I saw you last night, it was my first instinct.”

He did laugh then, and the scratching from Lady Susan’s quill paused. “You do know how to turn a compliment, don’t you.”

She blushed. “I didn’t mean I was displeased to see you. But I was shocked.”

“I was as well. But then I felt overjoyed and for a moment I forgot the…the situation. Or I wanted to at any rate. So perhaps I should leave.”

She shook her head and put her hand out. “Please don’t go on my account. We are both adults after all, and we will need to learn to meet as friends. Besides I cannot believe that Mrs Campion would be happy to have you away from her for all that time. I am not due back in Willingden until Christmas.”

He looked down. “Yes. Yes of course. I did promise I would try to make her happy. I _am_ trying.”

“And so am I.”

He appeared to be struggling with something and then nodded decisively. “Friends, then?”

She smiled and despite the longing she still sensed in her heart, she felt some of the burden lift from her shoulders. “Friends.”

She held out her hand to him. He took it and kissed it, meeting her eyes with a tender smile. “In that case, I venture to hope that I shall see you in London, and that I will always be glad to be in your company.”

“I will as well.”

He held her hand a moment longer and then both of them stepped back as Lady Susan swept in from the back of the room. “Well, my children?”

Sidney released Charlotte’s hand and bowed to Lady Susan. “I am happy to have renewed my acquaintance with Miss Heywood, and to see you again ma’am.”

Lady Susan inclined her head graciously. “Will you stay for some tea?”

“Alas I must go. I have promised to take my sister to the theatre this evening, and if I am late…” He smiled at Charlotte. “Well, you know Diana.”

Charlotte laughed. “I wish you a pleasant evening, and please tell Diana I hope I shall see her soon.”

Sidney nodded at this, a quizzical expression on his face. “Of course. Ladies, your very obedient.” He bowed again and left the room.

There was silence and then Charlotte spoke. “We have decided that we are to be good friends.”

Lady Susan patted her hand. “Of course you have.”

***

Back at Bedford Square, Sidney took the steps two at a time. Nothing had been solved, everything was as it had been before and yet he felt a lightness within him that he hadn’t experienced since the summer.

He strode into the hall and flung his hat on the side table. The butler glided up to him. “Sir…the drawing room…”

“Who is it? Lord Babington? I’ll see him now.”

“Sir!” The butler expostulated at Sidney’s retreating back but it was too late. Sidney opened the door to the drawing room, face and eyes alight with happiness. But sitting in a chair, a magazine open on her lap, was Eliza Campion. Sidney pulled up, the light fading from his face. He’d known her long enough to see that she was very angry.

“Ah, Sidney. At last.”

He collected himself and executed a neat bow. “Eliza. I’m glad to see you are recovered.”

“Never mind that." She was breathing hard. "Perhaps you could tell me exactly what Miss Heywood is doing in London, and why everybody is talking about her?”


	5. Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again for all your comments, I really appreciate them. My primary focus for this fic is Sidney and Charlotte, but I also wanted to explore the stories of a few of the other characters, so the early parts of this chapter are dedicated to Esther and James Stringer, both of whom deserve all the things!

The following morning, far away from the choked streets of London, Mr Stringer found himself riding through the countryside of Willingden, breathing in the crisp morning air and delighting that he found himself in the hills and vales where Charlotte had grown up. He could see the Heywood farm down in the valley, a neat, cosy looking house with chickens scratching in the garden. His heart beat faster at the thought of seeing her face again. Perhaps after all these weeks, her pain had grown less. Perhaps she might look on him and see a future. He allowed himself to dream a little as he drew nearer.

He had meant what he said to Sidney Parker, the man whose very face enraged him to the extent where he’d had to stop himself from punching him. He was quicker to anger since his father had died; he knew that a new beginning far away from Sanditon was needed. This peaceful part of the world might be just what he was searching for.

There…there in the garden was a slight figure with long brown hair, throwing corn to those chickens. He dismounted his horse and approached, feeling a little breathless.

“Miss Heywood?”

She turned. “Yes?”

His dreams collapsed. It was not Charlotte. This girl had a thinner face, straighter hair and eyes of a clear shade of hazel.

“Oh. I beg your pardon, miss. I was looking for Miss Heywood. Miss Charlotte Heywood. I have a letter for her from Mrs Parker.”

The girl approached him, an odd look on her face. “She is away in London at present. May I know your name?”

She looked almost hostile and he flushed. “Of course. My name is James Stringer. I’ve been working in Sanditon, building houses. I met Miss Heywood when she visited during the summer.”

The girl’s face cleared instantly. “Oh, Mr Stringer. Of course, she’s told me about you.”

“She has, miss?”

“Yes, of course. I heard all about Tom and Mary and the children, and you of course. It all sounded vastly exciting. I wish I could have been there.”

She smiled gleefully and it made him laugh. “Why should you not, miss?”

“ _I_ was not invited. But excuse me, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Alison Heywood, the next sister down.”

“Well then, surely your turn must come next.”

“Ahh, if only! However, circumstances are such that I’m not sure I should wish it anymore.”

Stringer sat down on a nearby wall, his original errand completely forgotten. “You know…what happened then, Miss Heywood.”

She sat down next to him and looked up at him intently. He noticed that her hazel colour of her eyes was flecked with green. “About… _Mr Parker_.” Her voiced lowered to almost a whisper. At his nod, she pressed her lips together. “She only confided in me. My parents haven’t the least notion that anything happened. All _I_ know is that she won’t hear a word said against him.”

“If you want my opinion, he treated her very ill.”

“He _did_ , thank you! I perceive you are a man of sense.” He laughed and she grinned broadly. “I don’t care if he did do it to save his brother, it still doesn’t excuse him.”

Stringer frowned. “His brother, miss?”

“Why yes, all the tedious business with the insurance. In my opinion, Mr Tom Parker should have been left to bail himself out, but there you are.”

Stringer stared at her, his mouth half open. “Insurance?”

“Why yes. Why else did That Man get himself engaged to a rich lady?” Then she clapped a hand over her mouth. “You didn’t know?”

At that moment a lady in a mob cap who surely had to be Charlotte’s mother leaned out of the window. “Alison? You must have fed the chickens three times over now. Come in for lunch.” Her head retired before popping out again. “And who’s this? Bring him in this instant.”

The topic abandoned, Alison seized his arm and dragged in towards the door. “Come and meet everyone.”

He hesitated. “I shouldn’t like to presume, miss.”

“Oh stuff. We don’t stand on ceremony here and I have made a very good ham pie. Come _on_.”

***

“Everyone’s talking about Miss Heywood? Who, exactly?”

Sidney heaved a gusty sigh. “She wouldn’t tell me. Just kept talking nonsense about a _concerned friend_. She enacted an entire Cheltenham tragedy in the middle of the drawing room. I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

Babington pulled a face. “Be thankful you didn’t grow up with it.”

“Your mother?”

“My father. Sarah Siddons had nothing on him. Look,” Babington leaned forward across the table. “I haven’t heard a word of gossip about either of you since the ball. Very likely some busybody wanted to make mischief. Your Eliza isn’t liked by everyone you know.”

Sidney took a long draft of ale. “She isn’t _my_ Eliza.”

Babington eyed him sideways on. “She will be soon if we don’t fix this tangle.”

“I promised to marry her.”

“You did. But tell me this. Do you actually want to marry her?”

Sidney closed his eyes. “No. I don’t. But Tom…”

“Forget Tom for a moment. Lord knows, I’m trying to. What if the money could be come by another way?”

“How? Nobody from here to Timbuktoo will lend us any money. Besides, I cannot withdraw from the engagement, you know I can’t. It wouldn’t be just my own honour discredited but all of us. I couldn’t do it to them, Babs.”

Babington leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed. “But,” he said at last. “ _She_ could. Don’t you think if a rich man with a title looked her way she would be tempted?”

Sidney gave a short laugh. “Well, as she informed me yesterday, she has no intention of letting me off the hook. Some business about being bound together by fate. I genuinely think she’s forgotten the circumstances of our first engagement.”

“Well, it’s a pretty feather in her cap isn’t it. An enormous fortune and a man who apparently waited ten years for her to be free. My friend, this is the rest of your life. I cannot believe that a little unpleasantness is too high a price for a lifetime of happiness with the lady you really love.”

Sidney smiled sadly. “I don’t think Charlotte would agree to marry me now, even if I were in a position to offer for her. I went to see her, you know. I offered to go away from London.”

Babington covered his eyes with his hand. “Of course you did.”

“She suggested that we become friends instead.”

“What?”

Sidney shifted defensively. “Well, and why not. I enjoy her company and it’s hardly likely we will never see each other again what with Mary and Georgiana being so close to her.”

“The pair of you are utter fools, if you want my opinion.”

“I don’t.”

“ _I’m_ your friend. You’ve never looked at me the way you look at Miss Heywood.”

Sidney raised a brow. “I’m sorry Babs, I’ll do better in future.”

Babington smothered a laugh as he tossed back his ale. “Come, it’s already three o’clock and I want to be home before dark.”

As they left the inn, he put a hand on Sidney’s shoulder. “I know Tom bailed you out all those years ago, but it doesn’t mean you need to repay him for the rest of your life. You deserve to be happy as well.”

***

Esther manoeuvred her smart phaeton through the gates of Hyde Park and set her horses into a smart trot. She’d broached the idea to Babington of driving herself around London, and had been surprised and delighted when he’d presented her the very next day with a smart phaeton and pair, and an exhortation not to frighten the old ladies in the park. Driving gave her a feeling of freedom; her newfound position meant that not even the staunchest of society matrons would censure her for being abroad with no escort. 

“Lady Bab! Lady Babington! Well met.”

Lord Farrow was waving his hat at her from the side of the path, his face wreathed in smiles. Esther pulled up and noticed that there were beads of perspiration at the edge of his hairline.

“Are you quite alright, Lord Farrow?”

“Oh yes.” He seemed to be out of breath. “A devil of a thing, Lady Bab. Would you believe it, my horse took a pet and actually threw me.”

“Good God. Are you hurt?”

“No, no. Merely my pride. And my horse is vanished of course. I don’t suppose I could impose on your kindness as far as Cumberland Gate?”

“I can do better than that. You’re at Mount Street are you not? Let me take you as far as there at least.”

He leapt up with alacrity. “Oh no, no. I would not hear of you going so far out of your way on account of my clumsy horsemanship, Lady Babington. Cumberland Gate will more than suffice.”

With a smile and an eyeroll, Esther picked up her reins and moved forward, edging neatly past a large landaulet. Lord Farrow kept up a stream of unremarkable small talk and as the gate came into view he cried out, “Why I do believe I see my mount. Thank you for your kind offices, Lady Bab. Your very obedient.” He jumped down and sped towards the gate.

Esther frowned and craned her head. “Where? Are you sure Lord Farrow?” There was no reply. She shrugged and turned her horses into the small grove of trees bordering the park. It was so quiet, she could only hear the birdsong. She pulled up her horses and closed her eyes. How strange that she should find peace in the middle of London instead of all those months by the sea. Although perhaps it was Babington who had given it to her, who always made her feel so calm.

Then her peace was rudely broken. She felt someone clamber up to sit beside her. She opened her eyes and immediately her stomach turned. Edward sat beside her, his face close to hers and smiling down at her. Her first thought was that he looked like a wolf and wondered that she had never noticed before.

“Good morning sister dearest.”

She started and felt bile rise up in her throat. “Get down this instant.”

He leaned back in the seat. “No, I don’t think I will.”

“Get down, or I swear to God I will push you out myself.”

He laughed. “I’ve missed your kitten claws, darling Esther. I don’t think I’ve ever found another woman quite so…stimulating.”

“You forget, I know exactly what happened between you and Clara Brereton on Aunt Denham’s drawing room floor.”

“And you made sure to tell our aunt all about it didn’t you? Has she had it replaced yet?”

“Get out. Get out now and never come near me again.”

“Not until you agree to intercede with our dear Aunt on my behalf.”

She gave a gasping laugh. “I will do no such thing. She despises you.”

“Whereas you are the golden girl who snapped up the golden goose are you not? For God’s sake, Esther, you’ve married a fortune. What need do you have of more? Do you _know_ what I’ve had to do to survive? The number of crumbling old ladies I’ve been obliged to bed? Although you’d know about selling yourself for money wouldn’t you? That clown Babington came calling and the thought of his title and his mansion was too much to resist.”

She slapped him hard across his face. “Don’t you ever speak about him like that. You aren’t fit to breathe the same air.”

All his sly humour vanished and there was a ugly look in his eyes. He grabbed her arm and twisted downwards. She felt a jagged pain ripple from elbow to wrist and stifled a cry. He leaned in and she could feel his breath hot on her ear. “Do remember, sister dearest, how we lived and what we did. How much you liked it when I touched you. Imagine if your high-born friends were to hear about that. I do know people who would be more than happy to spread a few little stories about cold Lady Babington and her trusting, simpleton of a husband.”

All at once he let go of her arm and jumped down from the phaeton. “All I ask is that you go to Sanditon and speak to our aunt. Is that such a hardship?”

She didn’t respond. Her arm was on fire and her head felt as though it had been stuffed full of feathers. He scribbled on a twist of paper and threw it into her lap. “My direction. Do let me know when you’ve decided to be reasonable.”

He blew her a kiss and walked away. Esther shook for a long while afterwards and even when she walked back into Babington House, she was aware that her legs felt as weak as water.

Babington was standing in the hallway, frowning at a letter. “Oxford,” he said as she approached. “Charlie’s been gambling again – actually sharping the cards if you can believe it. I swear that boy will be the ruin of us all. I’ll need to post up there this afternoon.” He looked up at her and frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh. Nothing at all. I’m tired, that’s all. I’m going to lie down.”

“Are you sure? You don’t look well. Perhaps I shouldn’t go.”

She sighed. “Oh please stop fussing, Babington. I shall be perfectly alright.” She turned towards the stairs and then stopped, closing her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just out of sorts. Go to your brother, you won’t forgive yourself otherwise.”

She gripped his arm for a moment and went upstairs to her dressing room in silence.

***

Although Alison would not admit it until years later, the moment she had clapped eyes on young Mr Stringer she had been perfectly sure that she would marry him. It had been a shock seeing such a large, handsome man invading their garden and asking for Charlotte. For a horrid moment, she had thought that this must be Sidney Parker come in search of her sister. The relief she felt when Mr Stringer had introduced himself had been quite disproportionate to the situation.

She eyed him covertly across the table. He was talking about buildings with her father, his hands shaping towers in the air and his eyes alight. Her father was leaning across the table to make a point and then taking a book down from the shelves to confer with their guest. The children were tumbling around him and clambering on to his lap. He just seemed to fit in with them all. He looked over and met her eyes then, and she felt herself blush a little as he winked at her. 

Much later, she lingered after hearty goodbyes had been exchanged and he had mounted his horse. He tipped his hat to her. “Thank you, Miss Heywood. It’s been a while since I broke bread in company.”

“You’ve been lonely.” It was a statement.

“I reckon I haven’t felt much in the mood for festivities since my father passed. I feel a little of the burden has been lifted.”

She smiled up at him. “I’m glad. Perhaps we shall meet again.”

He touched his hand to his hat. “I’ll look forward to it, miss.”

Alison watched him leave. She felt like laughing and crying at the same time. Was this how Charlotte had felt all these weeks? Charlotte…

She turned on her heel and raced back to the house. “Mamma, could I go to Sanditon to keep Miss Lamb company?”

“Oh Alison, I don’t think I could suggest that to Mrs Parker.”

“But Mr Stringer said that Miss Lamb was lonely, and it would be far better for me to go there instead of her coming to visit a houseful of strangers. Please let me ask Charlotte to write to her. Please, mamma? She’s having all the adventures and I want to have one to myself.”

Mrs Heywood eyed her daughter’s flushed face narrowly. “Hmmm. Well, you may write to Charlotte today and then we’ll see.”

***

Almost a week later, Sidney stood inside the Royal Academy at Somerset House casting an indifferent eye over the display. He was bored. Or was it that he was just unhappy. He couldn’t tell. He knew he felt out of sorts and restless and disinclined to stand elbow to elbow with a crowd of simpletons pretending to admire the paintings. He squinted up at the frame in front of him. A bevy of self-satisfied wood nymphs seemed to be fending off a demonic-looking satyr with some sort of scythe. “At least they’re enjoying themselves,” he muttered.

He felt fingers squeezing his arm. “Try to look happy, Sidney.”

“I’m always happy.”

Eliza ignored this. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was wearing a new bonnet with an extremely high crown and a mass of feathers. Her eyes darted over the crowds. Several people turned to look at them, and she placed her other hand on his arm, looking up at him adoringly.

With an effort he stopped himself rolling his eyes. “I’m not a prop, Eliza, stop trying to make me into some sort of tableau.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Don’t you want people to see us?” She didn’t wait for a response. “Oh I have _missed_ this. Look, my love, there is Lady Phillips. Shall we go and allow her to be very envious of my new hat?”

“If you choose.”

She flashed him a quick, angry look. “You aren’t going to be difficult, are you? People are watching us.”

“People are looking at the exhibits.”

“As if anyone came here to look at paintings.”

They were interrupted by his brother and sister bustling up behind them. “We certainly do. Arthur likes the portraits, don’t you Arthur?”

Arthur mopped his brow vigorously, almost dislodging Eliza’s bonnet in the process. “I do. I like to guess at what might have ailed them. Take that stern looking fellow over there. That’s a goitre if ever I saw one.”

“A goitre,” repeated Diana earnestly. “Come, there must be more inside.”

As they all moved off, Eliza’s mouth was pursed. “I hope they aren’t expecting to stay with us when we’re married,” she whispered.

“Bedford Place is their home. What are you going to do, put them out in the street?”

She laughed. “Well we won’t be living in that dusty mausoleum, will we? There is a charming house in Green Street which I…oh, Lady Babington. How delightful!”

Lady Babington turned her head with an arched brow and Sidney thought she looked like a ghost. He touched his hat. “How do you do? Are you feeling quite well? Where is Babington today?”

“Quite well, I thank you. He’s been obliged to post out of town on urgent business. I was bored, so I decided to come and be bored in the company of others.” Her gaze rested on a painting of a woman in a blue robe raising a hunting knife above her head as a man with fair curls and a pirate beard cowered below her. “I think I like this one best of all.”

The crowd propelled all of them forward to such an extent that Sidney almost thought they might be trampled underfoot. “Why are there so many people here?” he exclaimed, pulling the tails of his coat out of a knot of people pushing past.

Eliza cast her eyes to the heavens. “Because the Prince might be coming. Do you listen to nothing I tell you? I declare, men are the most infuriating creatures, are they not Lady Babington?”

Lady Babington said nothing in response. She was looking over to the side of the room and Sidney caught a flash of something on her face, something at once panicked and angry. He followed her gaze and felt his own heart stop in his chest. Charlotte was standing inches away, flanked by Lady Susan and Lord Farrow. With a pang, he noticed that her hand was tucked into Farrow’s elbow and he seemed to be whispering in her ear.

With another swell of the crowd, they were all pushed closer, both parties confronting each other. There was a general hubbub of delight as Arthur and Diana spied Charlotte and surged forward to greet her. By his side, he felt Eliza stiffen.

“Well met, well met indeed, Miss Heywood. Is this not delightful.”

Charlotte smiled up at Arthur. “Very delightful. Perhaps just a little too crowded to truly enjoy the pictures.”

Lord Farrow laughed. “Vastly too crowded. In fact, I think it might be best if I summon your carriage Lady Susan. One would not want a repeat of the dreadful scenes at Carlton House all those years ago.” He laughed but seemed to be finding it difficult to swallow. 

“Yes, perhaps you should, Lord Farrow.” Lady Babington spoke with a lazy drawl but her hands were clutching her reticule so tightly the satin crumpled under her fingers. Lord Farrow flushed. At a nod from Lady Susan, he shot into the crowd with only a sketch of a bow to the assembled company.

Eliza was suddenly wreathed in smiles. “My dear Lady Susan, what a pleasure.” She looked Charlotte up and down and gave her an icy nod. “Miss Heywood. What a surprise to see you again. On a little visit to the capital? How charming.”

Charlotte’s face was serene, and she met Eliza’s gaze directly. “Lady Susan has been so kind as to invite me to stay with her for the autumn.”

“Well. How kind of her to give you such a treat.” Eliza turned her back on Charlotte and manoeuvred herself next to Lady Susan. “It has been far too long since we met. I declare, I cannot remember when we last spoke.”

“I can. It was at Sanditon on the day of the regatta. Don’t you remember?” Lady Susan’s smile did not reach her eyes.

Eliza swallowed. “Of course. Such a happy time.”

Then the crowd shifted violently and Sidney almost lost his balance. When he had recovered, he could not see a single person he knew. He looked in vain over the sea of backs and heads for Arthur’s hat, or Eliza’s preposterous feathers.

“I fear we have become separated.” He looked down. Charlotte was backed against the wall, holding her hat in place with one hand.

He sighed. “This is impossible. We’ll just have to wait here for them.”

“That seems sensible.”

An awkward silence stretched between them. He could not think of a single thing to talk about. What would one say to a friend? What would he say to Babs if he were here?

He cleared his throat. “I…I like your hat, Miss Heywood.” He immediately wanted to knock his head against the wall. As if he would ever say such a thing to Babington.

She looked up at him, confusion in her eyes. “Oh. Thank you. It’s new, you know. Susan bought it for me.”

He tried again. “Yes. The colour of the ribbons…very becoming.”

“I like blue.”

“Yes, of course. I remember your ballgown at midsummer.” He saw the colour rise up her neck and could have slapped himself. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t mean to recall…”

She shook her head. “It’s perfectly alright.”

Silence lapsed between them again. Between the heat of the room and the intolerable battering his emotions were taking, he was beginning to feel as though his chest was in a vice. Then she spoke, pointing up at something. “I think I prefer this painting to any of the others in the room.”

He followed the direction of her finger. A little painting showed a sandy beach with tufts of seagrass and foam on the waves in the background. A trio of small children were paddling barefoot, casting little nets into a rockpool. They reminded him irresistibly of his nieces and nephew and he felt some of the tension leave his body. “It does look inviting.”

She smiled wryly. “I think I like the look of the open space and the fresh air. Everything in London is so crowded is it not? Lord Farrow tells me I will grow to love it, but I think he is mistaken.”

“Oh he does, does he?” Sidney spoke with more heat than he had intended. The crowd of people pressed forward and they bumped against each other.

“He is a kind acquaintance. Do you not like him?” She was looking at him in annoyance. Perversely, it raised his spirits. 

“Perfectly well, I daresay. What’s not to like?”

She lifted her chin. “Exactly. He is handsome, gentle and has a cheerful disposition which is very pleasing.”

“You mean he smiles at everyone and agrees with everything.”

“Yes! I mean no.” He met her eyes and saw that she was trying not to laugh. “Let’s not speak of it anymore. Did you know that my sister Alison will shortly be arriving in Sanditon?”

He accepted the change of subject with some relief. “Is she? Of course, I forgot that Mary was to write and ask if Georgiana could come and visit you in Willingden. We had no idea of your being in London.”

“I received an express from Alison begging me to ask Mary if she would consider Alison visiting instead. It’s all arranged.” She smiled up at him. “I envy her a little you know.”

“I’m just relieved. Georgiana has had a better time of it since she moved to Trafalgar House, but she is still unhappy. I hope having a companion will raise her spirits.”

Just then, Lord Farrow shouldered his way through the crowd towards them. “There you are. Everyone is waiting outside near the Strand. I was charged with finding you.” He was breathing hard as though he had been running. “Mr Parker, your charming fiancée was especially concerned as to your whereabouts. You are a lucky man.”

Sidney’s worst fears were realised as they approached their party outside Somerset House. He could tell by Eliza’s bright eyes and glassy laugh that he would be hearing about this for the rest of the day. She gripped his arm and hissed at him under her breath. “What were you doing in there. Didn’t I tell you that people are gossiping? Is _she_ so lost to all propriety?”

“Oh for goodness’ sake, Eliza, no one is gossiping! Miss Heywood is a friend of my family. Do you want me to cut her dead?”

She opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by a high-pitched scream nearby. In front of them, a tiny boy was running down the street as fast as his little legs would carry him. Even from this distance, Sidney could see the tear stains on his cheeks. Behind him was a large man in a homespun jacket and neckerchief, carrying a whip in one meaty hand.

Lord Farrow coughed. “Sweep’s apprentice I daresay. Dreadful brutes these men. Ladies, let’s away before…”

The boy tripped then and crashed to the ground. His pursuer raised the whip above his head. Before anyone could react, Charlotte cried out and darted forward, narrowly avoiding a large wagon. She put her hand up and knocked the man’s arm away, but still the whip whistled down and lashed against her cheek. 

Sidney heard himself shout, “ _Charlotte!_ ” Then he was running towards her, propriety and social graces left in the dust behind him. She was on her knees, bending over the boy on the floor, one hand holding her cheek. He reached them just as the man tried to grab her by the collar, and with one swift punch, laid him out cold on the pavement.

He took her shoulders. “Charlotte, are you alright? What did you do that for? You could have been seriously hurt.” He could see blood welling between her fingers and gently pulled her hand away to reveal a nasty cut. He dragged his handkerchief out and held it against her face. 

“Oh hush. It isn’t me that’s hurt. Only look.” Tears were starting in her eyes. 

He followed her gaze downward and saw that the little boy was unconscious. Red welts were visible beneath the neck of his thin shirt. “My God.”

From behind, he heard a hubbub of voices. He looked up to see a crowd of interested bystanders, including several society matrons who were whispering behind their fans. Behind them, Lord Farrow looked mortified, and Eliza was standing beside him, a frozen expression on her face. In a voice which he could tell was being very carefully controlled, she said, “Sidney, send the footman to fetch a constable and let’s come away. One should not get involved with such persons.”

He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Fetch the constable for this blackguard if you must. But we cannot leave this poor little scrap lying in the road.” 

His heart was hammering in his chest. Tom was going to kill him, if Eliza didn’t get there first. Then he turned back to Charlotte and the child that lay on the floor between them.


	6. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this yesterday but work got in the way. Thanks for all the comments, I love reading your thoughts on the characters. I've tried to explore Eliza in a little more detail because her motivations are a bit of a mystery in the TV series.
> 
> This is also officially the halfway point of the story :-)

Everything was too bright, and nothing felt real. Charlotte felt as though she were looking through a glass at the scene unfolding in front of her. Sidney was stripping off his greatcoat and wrapping it around the little boy. A collection of legs, skirts and shoes swam in front of her eyes, and she could hear whispers and exclamations all around her. Only the warmth of Sidney’s hand on her face felt at all real and for a moment she allowed herself to lean into it.

There was a hand on her shoulder and Lady Susan spoke low in her ear. “Charlotte, my dear, my carriage has arrived. Let us take the poor little boy back to Cavendish Square. I have sent my footman to fetch a doctor.”

Sidney looked up, nodding decisively. “I’ll carry him.” He hoisted the child against his chest and strode towards the carriage, ignoring the gaping bystanders.

From the side there was an angry shout. The thickset sweep was struggling in the grip of a parish constable and jabbing a finger towards Sidney. “ _He’s_ the one you should be arresting. He’s attacked me and he’s stealing my apprentice. Five bob I paid the orphanage for him.”

This snapped Charlotte out of her trance. She stalked forward, still clutching Sidney’s handkerchief to her face. “You _bought_ him?”

The sweep all but rolled his eyes. “You think they would have given me him for free? Waste of money anyway, the little rat refuses to work.”

Amid this pronouncement, the little boy stirred in Sidney’s arms. He blinked up at him and then suddenly kicked out, struggling against the folds of the greatcoat. Sidney patted his back, making soothing noises under his breath. “It’s alright, you’re safe now.”

The child considered Sidney with wide eyes, his fingers clutching at the coat.

The constable coughed. “Begging your pardon, sir. It does seem as though the boy belongs to this man.”

“ _Five bob_! _”_ the sweep thundered.

“Sir!” The voice was so imperious that even the sweep in all his rage stopped dead. Lady Susan walked forward. “I will give you ten shillings to remove the child from you.”

The sweep glanced around the crowd. Then he stepped forward from the constable’s slackened grasp and twitched the note out of her hand. “Still need your chimneys swept, don’t you,” he roared at the crowd who were still gawping at the scene. Then he pulled his hat low over his head and slouched off back down the Strand.

“Well, now that’s settled, let’s take this child somewhere more comfortable.” Lady Susan was propelling her charges towards the carriage. “Charlotte, get in and let Mr Parker hand him to you. That’s right. I shall be with you directly.” 

The boy whimpered as he left Sidney’s arms and clung onto his shirt sleeves like a limpet. He detached the little hand gently. “I need to escort Eliza home, otherwise I would have come with you.”

Their eyes met. “Yes, you must go to her, it’s been a distressing experience for all of us. Let me take him back with Susan. He needs a doctor as soon as possible.”

“As do you. You have a nasty cut. Promise me you will let the doctor look at it.”

She nodded and put her arms around the child. “Oh…Mr Parker, your coat.”

“Keep it for me.” He covered her fingers with his for a moment, and then jumped down from the carriage.

As he walked back towards the crowd outside Somerset House, Lady Susan put a hand on his arm. “Mr Parker, I believe we may need to do a little work to scotch any unfortunate scandal.”

“Yes.” He looked round at the crowd which still surrounded them. “I’ve behaved rashly.”

“And I perfectly understand why. But I fear there will be consequences. Those spiteful tabbies will see to that.” She looked past him towards a knot of matrons who had their heads together and were exchanging excited whispers. 

“I will take Mrs Campion home, and then we’ll see what can be done.” He hesitated. “May I call tomorrow to enquire after the little boy?”

Lady Susan sighed. “One day I will ask you why you are maintaining this ridiculous state of affairs. But…yes, you may.” As he turned away, she stopped him again. “But, come with your family, Mr Parker. Not alone.”

Eliza was standing a little way away from the crowd, apparently engrossed in inspecting the surrounding architecture. As he approached her, she looked away. He could see from the rigid set of her jaw that she was furious.

“Sidney.” Eliza was speaking a tight little voice that brooked no opposition. “Take me home now.” 

Conscious of a lady with high painted brows observing them with interest, Sidney bowed and offered his arm. Eliza took it and her fingers dug hard into his flesh.

***

Later, Charlotte accompanied the doctor down the stairs of Cavendish Square. Her cheek was throbbing under the bandage and her limbs felt as if they had been cast in iron. “The wounds will need to be dressed twice a day. Give him warm milk and some bread if he can stomach it. He’s half-starved and it won’t do to overload his stomach too quickly.”

“Of course.”

“And mind you look after your own wound. Arnica, twice a day. And go and lie down on your bed. Doctor’s orders.” He tipped his hat and was gone. 

She sighed and put a hand to her head. Her memories were jostling for space in her head; the child on the floor, the shouting, the pressure of Sidney’s hand on hers. Perhaps the doctor was right, and she should rest.

“The little boy will recover then?”

She looked across to the drawing room. Lord Farrow was standing by the fire, twisting his hat in his hands. Her heart sank, but she summoned up a polite smile and went to join him.

“Jack. He says his name is Jack. I think he will, but it will take a little time. He has been shockingly treated.”

“I…” He shook his head and took a few paces around the room. “I have not seen anything like it in all my days. That is…you, and Mr Parker.”

She flushed. In her head she could still hear Sidney shouting her name, and the whispers of the crowd around them. “It was merely concern for Jack, I assure you.”

“But actually throwing yourself in the path of the whip like that. And he, attacking the sweep in such a way.” He shook his head.

Mortification turned to anger and she put her hands on her hips. “I don’t understand how anyone could witness such a scene and stand aside. But perhaps it was not ladylike.”

“No, no. Well, not that I have ever seen a young lady behave like that. It was…it was admirable, Miss Heywood. Admirable. But I fear it will expose you to censure and I should not wish that for you.” He moved towards and her and took her hand in a tight grip. “You know surely…you must know how I feel? And what I hope for.”

Charlotte’s head was whirling once again. She pulled her hand away as gently as she could. “Lord Farrow, this is not the time.”

“I apologise. I have spoken out of turn. But may I hope to continue our conversation at another time?”

 _Continue our conversation_. Another time, another place, another man. She shook her head. “My answer would not be what you hope it to be, and I beg that we do not speak of it further.” She saw his face fall and felt irrationally guilty. “I beg your pardon, my lord, if I have pained you. It was not intentional.”

“But your words, your actions. I ventured to hope that my suit would not be in vain.”

“I’m sorry. I do think you very charming and gentlemanly and I have enjoyed your company. But I have not discovered stronger feelings inside myself and I still believe that one should marry for love. Perhaps it is naïve of me.”

“No, no.” His voice was strangled. “It is an entirely admirable notion. I hope I may still count you as a friend, Miss Heywood.”

“Of course, my lord.”

“And perhaps one day…well, on that I will be silent. Good day, Miss Heywood.”

The door closed behind him as Lady Susan came down the stairs. Charlotte gave a speaking look and covered her face with her hands.

“Dear me, have I missed a proposal?”

Charlotte nodded, her cheeks aflame. “I said no. It was…painful.”

“Ah well. Having to reject a man is never entirely pleasant, even when it is entirely the right thing to do.”

“He told me I had exposed myself to censure.”

Lady Susan’s lips tightened imperceptibly. “Well. I think we may safely say he would not have been a good match for you, as handsome and as rich as he is.”

Charlotte grimaced. “And Alison would tell me I’m past praying for.”

“And I would say that you are twenty-two years old and you have plenty of time to decide what it is that you want for yourself.” Lady Susan drew her into a comforting embrace. “Now, come along. Let’s see if we can persuade Jack to take a little milk.”

***

The journey back to Eliza’s house was silent and tense, made worse by a considerable delay caused by a wagon overturning near the park. Sidney went through a thousand excuses in his head, but he knew his behaviour, as instinctive as it had been, had exposed them all to gossip and speculation. He could not blame her for her anger. 

She remained silent until they had reached her elegant drawing room in Mount Street. With the door closed upon them, she whipped round.

“How dare you do that to me.”

“Eliza…”

“It was bad enough that Miss Heywood decided to draw attention to all of us with her vulgar actions, but that you would instantly join her and…and call her by her _Christian name_ in front of everyone.”

“She is a family friend, Eliza, they all call her by her Christian name.”

“Don’t _lie_ to me. I know very well what all of this is. She was in the market for a rich husband and she drew you in as easily as a fish on a line. You made a promise to me, Sidney, and you _will_ keep it. I don’t need to remind you of the consequences if you don’t.”

He could feel the tension rising in his shoulders. With a supreme effort he maintained his temper. “Thank you, madam, I am well-aware of the consequences. It was you who proposed them to me after all.”

“Because we are meant to _be_ together, Sidney. I knew you just needed a little persuasion. And you cannot have been so much in love with that simpleton if you accepted my terms, could you. Pray do not throw away what we have for a silly fancy.”

He turned away and leaned against the mantelpiece. He knew he was within a whisker of throwing the whole engagement away, consequences be damned. “So, you consider her to be a clever fortune hunter and a simpleton at the same time.”

A furious huff was her only response. He swallowed. “Shall I tell you what I think. Miss Heywood is neither. She is a kind-hearted girl with spirit and wit who deserves a great deal more than she has received from either of us.” He turned to look at her. “I will keep my promise if it is still what you wish. But in return I will make one request of you. I ask you not to speak ill of Miss Heywood to your acquaintances, to insult her or make insinuations about her character. She has done you no injury and it would do you no credit.”

Eliza appeared to be struggling to speak. Then she swallowed hard. “Why should I speak of Miss Heywood at all. She is entirely uninteresting to me. Now leave me. I am tired.”

“Eliza…”

“ _Leave me_.”

He turned on his heel and left the room. She stood motionless until she heard the front door close. Then she walked over to the mantelpiece and picked up a Sevres ornament of a smirking angel. She contemplated it for a moment and then hurled it as hard as she could into the fireplace where it smashed into jagged shards among the coals.

***

Edward Denham walked into the fug of the Greene Man and made for the stairs. He’d had an illuminating tête à tête with Letty Fox, well worth the half an hour he’d spent in her overly scented bed. Her description of the scene outside the Royal Academy was more lurid that those Gothic novels she was so fond of, but two points had caught his interest: there was definitely something going on between Parker and the Heywood chit, and Mrs Campion looked ripe for murder. If he could just turn this valuable information to his advantage he might be set for life. How he might manage it was something he was turning over in his head as he fished in his pocket for his key. 

“Damn you, it isn’t true!” He heard a slurred shout from the taproom and looked over to see Lord Farrow swaying violently and trying to aim punches at a laughing red-faced dandy who was nimbly avoiding Farrow’s fists. “You dare speak her name in public.”

Edward strolled over and put a hand on Lord Farrow’s shoulders. “Good God, man, don’t you think you’ve had enough.”

Lord Farrow was breathing heavily. His cravat was untied and he’d lost a waistcoat button. “This blackguard besmirches the name of the lady I love.”

The dandy smirked at him. “Lucky Parker, I say. Imagine having Mrs Campion and that fresh-faced chit on the go at the same time.”

Edward dragged Lord Farrow back from the fray. “Come man, it isn’t worth it.”

Farrow dashed a hand across his eyes and he slumped against a table. “She refused me.”

“Miss Heywood? Did she now. Well, very likely she didn’t mean it. Women need to be persuaded you know.”

Lord Farrow squinted up at him and seemed to see him for the first time. He stumbled backwards and fell over a stool. “No, no. Not you. I won’t do it again, I won’t be a go-between for you. I don’t care if you do tell everyone what I did.”

Edward pulled him up and shushed him soothingly. “Now, now. It is all forgotten. I have a sincere wish to help you unite with the lady you love.”

“You…you do?”

“Of course. Leave everything to me.”

***

When Sidney returned to Bedford Place, he found Arthur and Diana waiting for him in the drawing room.

Diana ran to him and seized his hands. “Oh brother, such a to-do. People are saying the most terrible things. I hope they may not come to Eliza’s ears.”

Arthur was bouncing on his toes, looking uneasy. “I did what I could at the scene. I said to any number of people that Miss Heywood is a family friend, practically a sister to us and we all call her Charlotte. I said the right thing, didn’t I?”

Sidney put a hand on his shoulder. “Exactly right. Thank you, Arthur.”

Arthur beamed at him. “A dashed heroine, that’s what I said, and anyone saying she’s done the wrong thing has no humanity in their heart.”

“He _did_ ,” whispered Diana. “He said all that right in front of Letty Fox and all those dreadful town gossips. I was never prouder of him.”

Arthur blushed. “Well, well, there we are. Anyway, we have been putting our heads together. We’ve thought of a solution for the child.”

Sidney blinked. “The child?”

“Oh yes!” Diana clasped her hands. “Poor little man! Well he can’t possibly stay here in London. He needs fresh air and good food, does he not brother? And I’m sure Lady Susan will not be wanting a small child running around her house for ever. We propose bringing him to Sanditon.”

“With Tom and Mary.”

“Not at all. Don’t you remember the Heatons? He’s the farrier. They have a cottage on the edge of the town, and a horse in a field. Sadly they were never blessed with children and Mrs Heaton had asked Mary if she knew of a way they might take in a child who needed a home. It’s a perfect solution.”

Arthur was nodding eagerly. “Diana means to write to Mary this very day.”

Sidney nodded. “I daresay it might do, if Miss Heywood agrees and the Heatons are willing. I had intended to visit Cavendish Place tomorrow. Why don’t you come with me? It was your idea after all.”

“Excellent notion.” Arthur sat down heavily. “And now, let us apply ourselves to these excellent teacakes. All this scheming has left me quite famished."

***

The following morning, Eliza sat in her breakfast room looking with disfavour at her plate. All she could think about was standing alone outside Somerset House and the smug looks of pity thrown at her by the society matrons in the crowd. 

Nothing was at all how she had imagined it. All those years waiting… _waiting_ for the day when she would be free, and she could make it up to Sidney as she’d always intended. Was it not what she had written to him when she’d broken off their engagement? _I will carry you always in my heart and hope that one day we may be reunited in joy once more_. She had shed actual tears over these words, imagining him roaming the world, waiting for the years to pass. She had been so sure he _would_ wait; he had never married after all. She had thought it was romantic.

Seeing him again in London at the Maudsleys’ ball had seemed like fate. He seemed broader, taller; he had become a man and it made her stomach flutter. After so many years submitting to the embrace of an elderly lover, she knew then that he was her reward for her fortitude. She had seen him dancing rather closely with another lady, that much was true, but he’d come to her instantly and she had been so _sure_. 

She remembered all at once, standing on a riverbank and watching Sidney – _her_ Sidney – row downstream, clasping Miss Heywood’s hands, both of them moving together in time with the oars. Deep down, she had known then that she had lost him, but somehow that knowledge made her more determined. She _would_ have him again, he would learn to love her again. Tom Parker’s misfortunes had been the opportunity she was looking for. 

Miss Heywood. Eliza clenched an unladylike fist. She’d come here quite deliberately, Eliza was sure, and now Sidney was behaving like a fool, and people were gossiping about them instead of looking on them with envy. She felt an angry lump rise in her throat. She generally preferred not to indulge in the extremes of emotion, but she was quite sure at this moment that she hated that wretched girl.

Her butler came in at this inopportune moment, bearing a card on a silver platter. “Sir Edward Denham, ma’am. He is most desirous of a moment of your time.”

Edward Denham. He had warned her before about Miss Heywood’s forward behaviour, had he not? Her eyes narrowed. “Send him in.”

He came and kissed her fingers with grace. “Mrs Campion. I was greatly shocked to hear about the events of yesterday. I came to see if I might offer some assistance.”

Eliza was feeling too raw for social niceties. “How would you be able to help me?”

“More than you know, dear lady. Let us speak plainly. You want to be rid of Miss Heywood, and I am in need of a rich wife. If I could ensure that the lady in question was married off to another gentleman before Christmas, perhaps you might find your way to introducing me into _ton_ circles. I have been informed that no other lady has such influence.”

She frowned, feeling vaguely disquieted. He spoke like a gentleman but something in his tone gave her pause. “Good God, I hope you have no intention of abducting the girl.”

“Oh nothing of _that_ nature I assure you. I have a friend who is desperately in love with her, and he only needs the slightest of pushes to make her his own.”

“And who is he?”

“Lord Farrow, ma’am.”

Eliza suppressed a sudden surge of envy and merely inclined her head. “Well, well. Rich and titled into the bargain. She could not do better considering her birth. But are you so sure he will agree to marry her?”

“I have the means to persuade him, you know. You only need to do one thing.”

“And what is that?”

He leaned in. “Make friends with her. Spend time in her company.”

She gave a contemptuous little laugh. “Friends? Why on earth would I do such a thing?”

He smiled. “My dear Mrs Campion, If her guard is down, it will be a lot easier to bring the thing about. Besides which, the kinder you are to her, the more guilty she’s likely to feel about causing you pain. She seems the type. So, do we have a deal?”

She put down her teacup with a snap. “No one must ever find out.”

“Who would. If something were to go wrong the blame would be placed at Farrow’s door after all.”

Eliza considered this. It was extreme, but she had worked too hard and suffered too much to let a nobody from the country ruin all her hopes. “Well then. If she is safely married off by Christmas I promise to introduce you to all the rich debutantes your heart could desire.”

“If not my heart, certainly my pocketbook.” He winked at her and took his leave.

***

At the same time as these plans were being laid, Trafalgar House swung into view in front of Alison’s eager eyes. It was exactly as Charlotte had described, honeyed stone and an elegant frontage. Outside was a crowd of people and Alison mentally ticked them off according to Charlotte’s notes… _Mary, Georgiana, the children_. And there was Tom. Even as Alison stepped down from the carriage, smiling and laughing, she saved a curious glance for this, the author of her sister’s misfortunes. He was beaming at her, all smiles and jollity, telling her how much they loved Charlotte and how welcome she herself was. He really didn’t seem to know what he had done. With this confusing jumble of impressions, she was ushered into the house.

“I am so glad you are come,” whispered Georgiana as they went upstairs to Alison’s new room. “Everyone is kind here, but I haven’t had a soul to talk to since Charlotte went home.”

“Well now we have each other. I’m expecting adventures.” Alison closed the door and smiled at her conspiratorially. “Will we be allowed to have them.”

Georgiana grinned. “Only in secret.”

Later, they explored the house, arm in arm. Tom’s office, which was littered in paper with a model of Sanditon standing proud in the middle of the room. The elegant drawing room and the flagged stone corridor which led into the garden and down to the river. In the hallway, Alison paused and looked up at a large painting of a dark, handsome man.

Georgiana rolled her eyes. “My guardian. He lives in London mostly.”

“So that’s Mr Sidney Parker.”

“He must have been quite young when that was painted. He is much older now and very stern and dull.”

Alison contemplated the expression of the portrait. “Do you...do you like him?”

Georgiana laughed in scorn. “No! I hate the very sight of him.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do you know…did Charlotte tell you about him?”

Alison clutched her arm. “Yes!”

“You must tell me. Charlotte wouldn’t say a word about anything after he became engaged.”

“Well, apparently _he_ …”

“Girls!” Mary’s voice floated down from the drawing room. “Come and have some tea. It’s too draughty in the hall and I don’t want to have to tell your mother that you’ve caught cold on your first day.”

“We’ll go down to the beach tomorrow where we can be quite alone,” whispered Georgiana. “I must know everything.”

***

At Cavendish Square, Lady Susan came back from making morning calls looking uncharacteristically grim.

“Well the claws are out. I’m not sure if it was you jumping in front of the whip or Mr Parker coming to your aid which people are talking about more. I fear our little rout party may be rather a trying evening for you, my dear.”

Charlotte flushed red but concentrated on helping little Jack spoon bread and milk into his mouth. “I will not apologise for saving Jack from what he suffered.”

“I Jack!” said Jack around his spoon, and Charlotte smoothed his hair with a smile. He seemed to have recovered surprisingly well from his ordeal at the hands of the sweep, although loud noises still made him shake uncontrollably.

“Nor should you, my dear. However, I am afraid Mr Parker may have exposed you to some very impertinent remarks, however noble his intentions.” 

Charlotte kept her eyes on Jack. “I don’t believe he meant to react like that. It all happened so fast.”

Lady Susan hesitated. “Yes. I have been obliged to invite him and Mrs Campion to the party after all. I had not intended it, but their being absent would likely fuel more gossip rather than scotch it. Would you prefer to sit the party out upstairs?”

“No. No, of course not. I won’t give anyone cause to think that I’m ashamed or guilty of something.”

She felt brave then, and angry. Angry with him for exposing them both. Angry with herself about how overcome she had felt as she had leaned into the hand cradling her face. She had come to London with every intention of enjoying herself and banishing the idea of Sidney Parker from her head. Now, it felt as if all of London was playing a guessing game at the state of her heart. 

The butler interrupted these agitated thoughts. “Mr Sidney Parker, Mr Arthur Parker and Miss Diana Parker.”

“Oh.” Her anger vanished immediately. She busied herself with tidying up Jack’s clothes, nearly upsetting his milk bowl in the process. 

Lady Susan regarded her with an amused smile. “Jack, I do believe you have your first visitors.”

Jack looked up with wide eyes, clutching on to Charlotte’s arm. He hid his face as Diana and Arthur advanced into the room. 

“Oh poor little boy.” Diana dabbed at her eyes with a scrap of lace. “You are a heroine, Miss Heywood!”

“Aye, a dashed heroine,” repeated Arthur, bowing with extraordinary grace towards her.

“I can’t disagree.” Sidney walked in behind them with a smile.

Jack peered around Charlotte at the sound of his voice. Then he scrambled off his chair and ran towards him, throwing his arms around Sidney’s leg.

Charlotte couldn’t help a laugh escaping her. “He’s become extremely attached to you already.”

Sidney swung him up in his arms. “On the acquaintance of a single minute. I’m very flattered, young man.”

“Poor little soul,” said Diana, patting his head. “Do you know anything about him?”

“Only what his master said, that he came from the orphanage. He looks like he might be four years old, but he doesn’t speak well. He did tell us that his name is Jack.”

“Jack!” The little boy repeated his name from the safety of Sidney’s shoulder.

Charlotte thrust aside a sudden surge of emotion. “I suppose the question now is what becomes of him. We cannot take him back to the orphanage.”

Arthur beamed. “We have a solution if you should not object. We think the little boy should be brought to Sanditon. There is a very good sort of couple who would like a child of their own. Nothing could be happier.”

Lady Susan raised her brows. “I might have known that Sanditon would be the answer. It is a very good notion, Mr Parker. I expect the sea air would do him good.”

Jack struggled down from Sidney’s arms and trotted back over to Charlotte, clambering into her lap. Arthur beamed. “I daresay young master Jack here will insist upon you accompanying him, Miss Heywood.”

“Well, perhaps we might all go,” said Lady Susan. “I have just discovered in myself a particular desire to return. I can take a house for a few weeks and Charlotte can stay with me.”

Sidney smiled. “Tom will probably explode from the delight.”

She raised a brow. “What a prospect. And will you be joining us, Mr Parker?”

There was a pause. “I should not…that is, regretfully I have business in London which prevents me from travelling.”

Charlotte felt, rather than saw, Sidney’s gaze upon her. She kept her own eyes firmly on Jack’s fair curls and didn’t look up.

The Parkers left shortly afterward, and it was only after returning home that Sidney realised he’d forgotten his greatcoat.

***

He had firmly intended to remain in London. Travelling to Sanditon with Charlotte would have all but confirmed the gossip, and he could never have prevailed upon Eliza to come with him, even if she hadn’t been so angry with him. He was still wary when his carriage drew up in Mount Street to take them both to Lady Susan’s rout party. 

At the door, she fell on his neck. “My dearest, I am so sorry. My wretched temper you know. Of course you wanted to come to the rescue of that poor little boy.”

Taken aback by her sudden about face, Sidney allowed her to press a kiss to his cheek. “The fault was mine Eliza,” he said mechanically.

“Oh no, never,” she said with a bright smile. “Now tell me how the child does?”

“Well, I believe. Arthur and Diana have concocted a scheme to bring him to Sanditon.” He hesitated. “Miss Heywood will be going with them.”

“Well, how charming.” Eliza lapsed into silence, but as they set off, she took his hand. “Why don’t we go as well?”

For a moment he couldn’t speak. “You want to go to Sanditon?”

“Yes, why not. You know there’s been all that silly talk. What better way to scotch rumours than for us to travel down together to visit your family? You don’t want people saying that Miss Heywood is more of a sister to them than I am.”

“Why would anyone say that?”

The acid was back in her voice. “People _notice_ us Sidney. We must appear united. And I’ve had another notion. We should rearrange our wedding date for December. Only think of how charming a Christmas wedding will be. It was a silly idea to delay it so excessively.”

He stared out of the window at the darkened houses passing by. “You wanted to be married during the season.”

“Well, and now I wish to be married in December. I’ve spoken to the bishop and it’s all arranged.” A pause. “If you like, you may invite your Miss Heywood. I daresay she’s never witnessed a proper society wedding before.”

***

Much later, Sidney found himself alone nursing a glass of wine. He could see Eliza moving around the room, flushed with triumph and happiness. She had been peculiarly gracious tonight, even seeking Charlotte out and declaring her a heroine to everyone in earshot. Charlotte herself, he could tell, was ill-at-ease. She stood by Lady Susan, dressed in white and it reminded him of that first ball and how he had been unable to look at her for fear of falling straight into her wide, dark eyes. Soon she disappeared and he was bereft all over again.

For the first time since his engagement he felt that it really was all over and that Charlotte was lost to him. Ridiculous really, when Charlotte had been lost to him the moment he had agreed to Eliza’s proposal. He wandered out into the empty hall and looked down into the crackling fireplace. And now they would all be going back to Sanditon where they had been so happy and so sad, where they had fought and fallen in love, and where they would have part all over again.

A small patter of feet caught his attention. He looked up and saw Jack in a long white nightgown hiding behind the bannisters. He smiled and set his glass down. “Good evening, young Jack. And what are you doing out of bed at this late hour.”

Jack took his hand and pointed a chubby finger in the direction of the party. “Loud,” he said.

“Did it wake you up?”

Jack nodded vigorously. 

“Well then, let’s take you back to bed.” Sidney hesitated at the foot of the stairs. It wasn’t the done thing at all to invade the personal apartments of your hosts, but there was no one else around and he couldn’t leave a tiny child to wander into the party. Just then he heard a frantic whisper from the upper floor. “ _Jack? Jack, where are you?”_

He picked him up and walked up a few steps. He saw Charlotte’s face peering down at him. “Oh, Mr Parker. Thank goodness. I went to look in on him and his bed was empty. The house is so big, I was worried he was lost.”

He advanced up one more step. “Should I…?”

“No…no, I’ll come down.” She ran lightly down the steps and gathered him up from Sidney’s arms. It was an unbearably sweet reminder of the life that might have been, and his voice was rather hoarser as he stepped back. 

“Well, I’d better be getting back.”

As he turned, Jack clutched onto Sidney’s hand. “No, no, no, no.” 

“Now, Jack,” Charlotte tried to detach him. “It’s time for bed. You will see Mr Parker later.”

Jack wriggled out of her grasp and launched himself at the lapels on Sidney’s coat. “No, no, no.”

Charlotte sighed so dramatically it surprised a laugh out of Sidney. “Oh, honestly. You’d better come up otherwise he’ll never settle.”

Jack fell asleep almost immediately. Charlotte smoothed the sheets over him and rubbed her hand across her eyes. “You haven’t seen his injuries,” she said in a low voice. “We have to dress them twice a day. Welts and cuts all over his body and his hands are bruised, I think from being forced up those chimneys.”

Her voice was getting thicker. “I just keep thinking about my own little brothers. How scared and alone they would feel, and I can’t…” Her voice became suspended altogether.

Something inside Sidney broke. He put a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. “Because of you, he has a chance of a life.”

“But how many others are there? That sweep from yesterday has probably already got himself a new apprentice, just as frightened.”

“We can only do what we can, and you have done much more than most would. Please don’t cry.”

She wiped a hand across her face. “It’s been a long few days. And now all I want is to go home.”

He had both hands on her shoulders now. She turned her tearstained face up to his and didn’t look away. He smiled down at her, not even attempting to fight the instinct which made him say, “When you do, I’ll miss you.”

A tear rolled down her cheek and she nodded. “I’ll miss you too.”

They were close, so close. She was looking into his eyes and he could see the naked emotion in them. Her breath was ragged, and it matched his own. It would be the work of a moment to close the gap between them. He wanted to so very badly. Their foreheads brushed lightly against each other.

Then Jack coughed and turned over. Charlotte took a deep breath and stepped away, averting her eyes from his. “We shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice was rough with emotion.

“You should go. Mrs Campion will be wondering where you’ve gone. I’ll stay up here with him until he settles.”

“Goodnight, Charlotte.” he said softly. He walked back down the corridor, his heartbeat hammering in his ears. As he made his way carefully down the stairs and slipped back into the salon, he finally accepted what, deep down, he had known for weeks. 

He didn’t know how he would manage it, and how he would rescue Tom, but he could not marry Eliza Campion.


	7. Bargaining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pulling the focus a little off Sidlotte here in preparation for the final three chapters (and epilogue) which are pretty much 90% about them :-). Thanks as ever for for reading and for your comments, I really appreciate it.

“Miss Heywood!”

Alison turned from her contemplation of the view across Sanditon and her heart skipped a beat. Mr Stringer was coming towards her, smiling broadly and his eyes warm, crinkled up against the wind. He had been working and his sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, revealing strong forearms dusted with sand and plaster. She had seen him several times since her arrival in Sanditon and even spent two very pleasant afternoons strolling on the beach and exchanging views about everything in the world. Even so, every new sight of him made her legs feel like water. She was sure Charlotte would tease her mercilessly if she knew.

Gritting her teeth against the impulse to throw herself into his arms, she returned his smile with an attempt at airy indifference. “Mr Stringer. What a pleasant surprise. I have been admiring the view of your town.” This came out odd and breathless and she hoped he hadn’t noticed.

He came to stand beside her. “It isn’t a bad one, I’ll admit.”

“You don’t care for it?”

“I’ve lived here all my life. Perhaps I don’t notice it the way I used to.” He smiled down at her and she felt as if she were the only person in the world. “I like the country around your home, Miss Heywood. It feels peaceful to me, all the trees and the hills. A man might make a home there.”

She felt herself blush a little. The more time she spent in his company, the more that little voice of certainty in her head grew louder. _It’s him_ it had told her when she had first laid eyes on him. But then how could anyone fall in love upon a single meeting? She’d read about it in books of course, but it had seemed a ridiculous notion. Georgiana would scoff, she was sure. But now she looked at his furrowed brow as he looked out across the bay and knew everything she needed to know.

He turned his head then and she looked away hastily. He laughed and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping it across his dusty face. “Beg your pardon, Miss Heywood. I’m working on the terraces this morning and I’m not fit for any company in this state.”

“Nonsense, as if anyone gives a fig for a little dirt.”

“Well some people might.”

She took her courage in her hands. “Well, I like you just as you are.”

Was that a tinge of colour on his cheeks? He looked down at his hands and across the bay again. “Thank you miss.”

Mortification crashed over her. She was mistaken. She had gone too far and embarrassed them both. With a gasp she stepped back, clutching her reticule. “Well, I must get back. Mary is expecting me and…goodness, I shall be late for lunch at this rate.”

The ten o’clock bell chimed from the church below.

His shoulders shook slightly. “I reckon you’ve got time to get there.” As she turned to leave with what dignity she could muster, he called after her. “Miss Heywood.”

“Yes?”

“I like you too.” He hesitated a moment and then smiled. It was like the sun coming out. “Exactly the way you are.”

Alison wandered back to Trafalgar House, lost in pleasant dreams. At the door she was interrupted by Tom who seemed fairly bursting with news. “Miss Heywood! Alison! You must come and see my latest creation. I wanted to complete it before Mrs Campion arrives. This is sure to put us on the map.”

In his office, the model of Sanditon had been augmented by a large pavilion with a domed roof and what looked like a thousand tiny windows.

“My goodness,” exclaimed Alison. “Is that not a copy of the Prince’s pavilion at Brighton?”

Tom cocked his head to consider this. “In essence perhaps. But it will be so, so much better. My dear, we must aim for the stars. With my vision, my wife’s support and Mrs Campion’s funds there is nothing we cannot achieve.”

***

“What do you mean, we shouldn’t get married? Of course we’re getting married. You promised you would if I wished it, and I _wish_ it.”

Sidney closed his eyes against the headache brought on by a sleepless night. Tom’s predicament was foremost in his mind; during the long night he had dreamed up and discarded half a dozen solutions. At four o’clock, as a solitary bird started chirping outside his window, he began a letter to Alderman Caldwell, the richest merchant in the city, before screwing it up and throwing it into a corner. If none of the banks would lend to Tom, it stood to reason that the merchants also would be well aware of his reputation.

One thing he had decided. He had to break with Eliza now. He could not bring her down to Sanditon and watch her discuss her wedding plans with his family, all the while knowing that he could not marry her. Whatever he might feel for her now, she didn’t deserve to be treated like that.

He looked at her now. She was pale apart from two bright spots of colour burning on her cheeks. “Sidney? Are you daring, are you actually _daring_ to break off our engagement? Do I need to remind you that such a step from you would expose you and your family to censure of every kind?”

He sighed. “Eliza, I am persuaded that continuing our engagement will bring us nothing but regret and misery. We have become different people, and I think we would both end up very unhappy.”

Her mouth was a thin line. “Only because you _refuse_ to try and be happy with me. I have done everything in power to please you. I have been by your side at every party and dinner, I have paid your miserable brother’s debts. I have _tried_ to love you, but you won’t let me do it.”

“Do you love me, Eliza?”

“What do you mean?”

He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t mean to sound like a coxcomb but I want to know. Do you love me?”

There was a silence. She opened her mouth and then closed it again. “What…what a question. Of course I love you.”

“Why do you?”

Eliza was pacing about the room. “Must I justify everything? Very well then. I just do. You are handsome and you are admired in elegant company. You…I like your…well, you turn a phrase very well and I remember how ardent you used to be. Oh, Sidney dearest,” she took his hand, “when we first knew each other, you used to put flowers in my hair, do you remember? So improper and mama was so cross. _That_ is the man I love.”

He shook his head. “We were children, Eliza. It was infatuation on both our parts. I understand that now. Please let’s free ourselves to find people who truly love us for who we are now.”

She made a sound like an angry cat. “I suspect you would not have to do much in the way of searching.”

“I have no expectations.” This much at least was true. He had hopes of course, and he could see a small chink of light in his future, but it seemed impossible that Charlotte might still agree to renew their understanding after everything that had happened.

She was silent for a long moment, her back turned to him. Then she bowed her head. “Well, I have no wish for an unwilling and unfeeling husband. Perhaps you are right. But then – perhaps _I_ am and we do truly belong together.”

“Eliza—”

“Listen to me, Sidney. I do not consent to our engagement ending just now. If you choose to end it, that is your decision, but the disgrace to your family will last for years. You would not be able to bring your wife into polite society. And your nieces, what if they wished to be brought out when they’re older? I could make things very difficult, you know.”

“Is this supposed to convince me that we are meant for each other?”

“I want you to _listen_ , Sidney. I intend to come to Sanditon with you as we have arranged and be among your family. Perhaps I have not been as kind as I could have towards them and their efforts to revive the town. Please, give me one week. You owe me that much. And if you tell me at the end of that week that you still wish for us to part, then I will wish you well and go back to London. I promise you that.”

He let out a sigh. It was a bad idea, he knew it deep down. But it would give him more time to speak to Tom and find some sort of solution to his financial problems. “Very well, Eliza. One more week and we will speak again. But I won’t change my mind.”

She smiled thinly at him. “Perhaps.”

Once Sidney had left, she sat down at her writing desk and took up a pen. It was only a short note, but the words were scored quite viciously into the paper. Then she summoned a footman. “This must go to Sir Edward Denham immediately. _Go!_ ”

The footman fairly leapt back through the door, leaving Eliza trembling with suppressed rage. She no longer cared for Miss Heywood’s safety, only that she was removed from Sidney as soon as could be arranged.

***

That afternoon, Esther got down from her carriage at the front door of Babington House. The luncheon party had been a mistake. She felt exhausted to her bones and oddly light-headed. Sleep had been hard to come by recently and the bed felt empty without her solid, reassuring husband snoring beside her. The thought of it made tears prick at her eyes.

A low whistle made her look up. Edward was lounging by the railings a few houses down. He gave her a mock salute and sauntered over to her. “My dear Lady Babington. You look dreadful. Are you quite well?”

She edged towards the house. “That is none of your business.”

“But it is my business, darling Esther.” His gaze slid over to the footman who was holding the door of the house open and pretending not to look at them. He leaned closer. “Might I suggest a trip to the seaside?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Well, I am travelling to Sanditon on a small matter of business, and I rather thought it would be the ideal time to confront my aunt and tell her that you were lying about me and Clara. Or that Clara was. I am quite happy for you to spin whatever yarn you choose.”

The tears in her eyes threatened to spill over. She was frightened and furious in equal measure. “How dare you threaten us like this? What good will it do? My aunt is not a simpleton, she would see right through it.”

“Would she? Come, Esther. Do this for me and I will swear I will never ask anything of you ever again.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I know you miss me.”

She felt a wave of nausea overtake her. “I do not. And I will not do as you ask. Babington won’t care about idle gossip, he never has.”

Edward smiled unpleasantly. “Oh, but I think he would if I told everyone what I know about you. Your deepest, darkest desires. How we amused ourselves at Denham Place. The way I used to brush your hair, to help you with your laces. Won’t that be a treat for him to hear.”

Her hands were shaking. The idea of Babington having to hear such things about her was almost too much to bear. She had never given herself to Edward, but the memories of her desire for him and how she used to thrill at his touch were still vivid. She knew Edward well enough to know that he would twist the truth into something grotesque and shameful.

A tear dropped down her cheek. “What do you want me to do?”

He brushed the tear away and she jerked her head back. “All you have to do is travel to Sanditon tomorrow and send me word when you’re ready to plead my case with Aunt Denham. Such a simple request is it not?”

She swallowed. “Very well. But do not ever come here again.”

He touched his hat and strolled away whistling to himself. Esther turned on her heel and marched into the house, her head held high. In the hallway she tried to undo her hat ribbons with shaking fingers. The nausea came rushing through her again, and she hurried up the stairs

***

Edward walked back to his lodgings, a jaunty tune on his lips. For once he did not curse Esther’s name as he turned the key and walked into the fug of damp which generally greeted him when he returned home. For the first time in months he felt as if he were back in control. It had been almost painfully easy to get her to agree to his terms. She simply couldn’t help herself, both her attraction to him and her loyalty towards her dullard of a husband. He put a finger to his lips and smiled.

“Why so happy?”

He started. Behind him, Clara Brereton was sitting in his moth-eaten armchair, twirling a hairpin between her fingers. “You should find a room with a better lock, cousin.”

He threw his key on the table. “Well, well. Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

“It was necessity, not you which brings me here. I need money.”

He threw back his head and laughed out loud. “And what makes you think I have any money to give you?”

She gave a contemptuous little hiss. “I’ve seen you. Horses, parties, new clothes. You must be getting it from somewhere.”

“Pin money from desperate dowagers. It keeps me from starving. Besides which, I wouldn’t give you any even if I had it. It’s your fault we’re in this mess. If you hadn’t told Esther what happened between us, we’d still be at Denham Place and Aunt Denham’s thousands would not be going to the damned _donkeys_.” His voice rose and there was a hammering on the wall opposite. 

Clara looked unruffled. “You gambled your life away on the promise of a death which never came. That is not my fault.”

He flopped on the bed and closed his eyes. “Well, there’s no money. So you may take yourself off to whichever brothel you crawled out of this morning.”

She was silent a moment. Then she came to stand over him. “I have suffered during my life in ways you cannot begin to guess at. I shall not endure it a moment longer. And neither shall my child.” She undid her cloak. There was a gentle and unmistakeable swell underneath her green stuff gown.

Edward opened his eyes. A muscle contracted in his jaw. “It isn’t mine. Didn’t you leave Sanditon with that fool Crowe? No doubt he’s the one who left you with a souvenir.”

Clara shrugged. “I stole his pocketwatch and left him on the stage at Cuckfield. The child is yours.”

He let out a long, deep breath and looked up at her. “Perhaps if you do me a favour, I might see my way to helping you out.”

She held his gaze with her clear eyes. “What is the favour?”

“I think you’ll enjoy it. I am leaving town tomorrow morning for Sanditon. I will need you to go and find Lord Babington and tell him his wife has run off with me. With any luck it will ruin his peace and hers into the bargain.”

She nodded slowly. “So you intend to be revenged on him as well as her. Is the story true?”

He grinned at her. “As near as makes no difference. I intend to take what’s mine from her, and then she can be thrown to the wolves for all I care. Do we have a deal, _Miss_ Brereton?”

She smiled slowly. “For £50 I will tell him and leave London for good. If you don’t pay me, I will lay information at Bow Street that you tried to blackmail a peeress of the realm.”

He smirked at that. “As if they would believe you for a second. Good day, cousin. Do close the door on your way out.”

***

When Lord Babington bounded into the marital bedroom that evening, he found his wife standing like a statue amid several trunks. She turned to look at him and he saw that she had a wild, desolate look on her face. He had not seen it since that dark time when she sat alone in the chill of Denham Place and it took him aback.

He stepped over boxes to reach her. “My darling, what is it? What’s wrong?”

Something sparked in her eyes that was part joy and part something else he couldn’t identify. “You’re home! I had not expected you until tomorrow at least.”

“Well, Charlie is settled as far as I can tell, and I was anxious to see my wife.” He wanted to make her smile, but he could tell that the walls she used to put up around herself were back in place. “Something’s wrong. Are you unwell?”

“No. That is, I’m a little fatigued. It’s nothing of consequence. I have to travel to Sanditon tomorrow morning. My aunt is not in good health and after her illness in the summer I’m worried for her.”

He took her hand. “Then we’ll go together.”

“No, no. There’s really no need.” She gently pulled her hand away and turned back to her trunks. “You’ve just returned from a long journey after all, it wouldn’t be fair.”

“It’s no matter to me at all. But you look too pulled to travel at all. Can you not delay by a day or two?”

“I cannot!” She spoke with such vehemence he took an involuntary step backwards. She took a juddering breath. “I’m sorry. I’m feeling dreadfully out of sorts, that’s all. But I must go to Sanditon and I need to go by myself. Please, Babington.”

He felt a cold hand on his heart. “Is this something to do with your brother?”

There was a long pause. “Why would you bring him up now? You know what he’s done to me.”

“I do, and I don’t want to see him doing it again. Esther, if he is bothering you, you must tell me.”

She sat down on the bed and put her hand on her forehead. “Why must I? Why must I do any of it, stuffy parties, crowds of people I can’t stand. I feel like I can’t breathe, Babington!” She rubbed away a tear with the heel of her hand.

He felt as though he were on board a boat in the middle of a storm. His throat was dry and he tried to swallow. “I thought you were happy.”

“I _am_ happy. I have been happy. Just lately though I feel…” she sketched her hand in the air, grasping for the words. “I feel so restless. I say please, and thank you, and how do you do and inside I just want to scream.”

He was silent for a moment. He wanted to go to her, but he sensed she would not welcome it. Her handkerchief was balled up in one hand and she looked as though one touch would shatter her into a thousand pieces. “Very well, my dear. You must do as you think best. Perhaps the sea air will do you good.” He was trying desperately to keep his voice light. 

She smiled a little then, although it was more of a grimace. After a pause, he left the room and made his way down to the library where he spent the rest of the evening staring into the fire. After all, he had known that she didn’t love him when she married him. He had just thought he had enough for both of them. 

***

The next day, Jack saw the sea for the first time. Charlotte held him as he put his head out of the carriage window, closing his eyes against the salt wind coming from the sea. “Big!” he exclaimed and threw his arms wide. This drew a laugh from Sidney who was riding next to Mrs Campion’s carriage just behind. He saluted smartly as Jack waved to him. Charlotte had pretended not to notice that he had been slipping Jack little marzipan animals from his travelling bag at every stop along the journey. 

She herself was feeling oddly restless. She was ashamed to admit to herself that she still thought about the interlude with Sidney at the rout party and, only the night before, had woken up from a vivid dream about it which still made her blush. Even more discombobulating was Mrs Campion, once so icy, was now all smiles and caresses, taking her arm and asking her opinion about the latest fashions. At the last inn, she had insisted on them taking the air together, throwing an arch glance at Sidney and telling him to stay away. “We are talking secrets, my dear, and you are not invited.” The secrets were generally gossip about the misfortunes of various _ton_ people and Eliza’s smiles never quite reached her eyes. Charlotte couldn’t shake the odd feeling that something was very wrong.

The feeling vanished when they pulled up outside Trafalgar House. In the chaos which followed, Tom handed Lady Susan from the carriage with so many bows she had to ask him to stop. Sidney came to lift Jack down, and Charlotte couldn’t look him in the eyes, her dream was still so fresh in her mind. But there was Alison, bright-eyed and laughing flying towards her and whispering in her ear that she had to tell her things. Georgiana was shrieking in delight and throwing her arms around her. Mary was putting a kind hand to her face and greeting little Jack who was observing the crowd with wide-eyed interest. And there was Mrs Campion wreathed in smiles, exclaiming over Mary’s dress and how grown the children were. Charlotte tried not to see Mary’s glance sliding rapidly between her and Sidney and Eliza and back again.

In the confusion, no one noticed Jack trotting into Trafalgar House. He liked being with Charlotte most of all, but he could see Sidney’s bag, the one with the coveted animal sweetmeats, being carried inside. He had never tasted anything so good. Perhaps Sidney wouldn’t mind if he just ate a few more, and maybe put an extra one in his pocket in case he needed it later. 

He hid and watched the maid carry the bag of delights up the stairs. Once she had gone, he scurried up, peeking into rooms full of fascinating ribbons and shoes and mirrors. At last in the final room he found his quarry, set on a small chair by the bed. Jack gave a delighted squeak. His little fingers scrabbled with the catch on the bag and delved inside, looking for the sweets among a tangle of clothes.

Then he saw a little corner of white sticking up behind the lining of the bag. Was this where they were hidden? He pulled and was disappointed to find only several pieces of paper, written all over. Jack pulled them apart, tracing the writing. Maybe it was a story like the ones Charlotte told him before he went to sleep.

Just then he heard Charlotte’s voice calling him. Startled, he dropped the pages and they scattered under the bed. 

Charlotte appeared in the doorway. “Jack, what are you up to. You mustn’t look into Mr Parker’s bag like that.”

“But the animals,” pleaded Jack. She smiled at him like the sun and he was relieved she wasn’t angry. Everything here was fresh air and smiles, but he still felt the cold and the dark behind him, just out of sight.

“Come now. You must have some supper and a good sleep. In the morning we’re going to take you to meet your new family.”

Fear clutched at his heart. “Want to stay with you.”

She sat down on the stairs with him and held him close. “It isn’t possible, my love. But I’ll be visiting you often, I promise. Mary says that they are so kind and so happy to meet you. And they have a horse, just think of that.”

Tears welled up in his eyes. “Not happy.”

“We will visit you often, I promise.” She wiped his tears away and kissed his head. 

Then Sidney was coming up the stairs to join them. Jack could see the smile which only appeared when Charlotte was there. “I must see Eliza to her lodgings. I’m staying here with Tom and Mary.”

Charlotte was smiling back. “I know. Jack found your bag.”

Sidney ruffled his hair. “I see. Are there any animals left?” He was laughing and Jack felt better. He still feared what the morning would bring, but he thought that he would take this feeling that he had now, Charlotte’s embrace and Sidney’s laugh, and save it up in his head in case he ever needed to remember it again.

***

Later, as the sun began to dip in the sky, Edward found himself sitting in a disreputable inn at the edge of Sanditon, a goblet of indifferent ale in front of him. The smell of rotting seaweed was back in his nostrils. He _hated_ this place and all it represented. Once he had his inheritance he would happily shake the sand from his shoes and see the whole place fall into ruin.

Farrow collapsed onto a stool next to him, looking grey. Edward put a hand on his shoulder. “Is it done?”

“Yes. Yes, I have hired a chaise and four, and secured two rooms at the Angel near Horley.”

Edward snorted. “Two rooms is it?”

Lord Farrow struck the table with his fist. “How dare you suggest…as if I would even _try_. It’s bad enough that I must go to such lengths to marry her, let alone… _that_.”

“I told you, I have it on good authority that Miss Heywood is top over tail in love with you but refused you because she thinks you are too much above her in station. Trust me, if you carry her off, she will think it the most romantic thing imaginable.” Edward drained his goblet and held his hand up for the landlord.

Lord Farrow put his head in his hands. “I wish I could believe it. I dream about her, night and day. But to take such an improper step…I had not thought it of myself.”

“Well, you may give up and return to London of course. But this is the only way to overcome Miss Heywood’s natural modesty. And of course, you know…” Edward leaned forward and pinched Farrow’s chin. “one would not want tales from Rotherhithe to reach her ears. That _would_ scupper your chances once and for all, would it not?”

A little later, he strolled down a lonely strip of sand, out of sight of the beach. Mrs Campion was already there, watching the sun as it touched the water. He cleared his throat. “Tomorrow at two if you can manage it.”

She inclined her head. “I am doing my best to be pleasant. I even took a brief walk with her when we broke our journey this morning and asked her opinion of my hat.” She snorted. “As if she would know anything about it.”

“And once she is safely married, may I call on you in Mount Street?”

“Perhaps. However, if I hear even a whisper of my name spoken in connection with this affair, I will instantly make you the most hated man in London. So do take care, Sir Edward.”

He bowed. “I see we understand each other, Mrs Campion.”

***

That evening Babington found himself kicking his heels at home. He probably should have been attending a prize fight or frequenting one of the numerous taverns in the city - any of the things a man fortunate enough to find himself alone might do. He felt listless; he couldn’t summon up his usual cheerful spirits no matter how much he tried. He had thought that it would be enough for him to have Esther by his side, to admire her spirit and determination and to have her like him, even if she didn’t love him. 

He had been wrong, stupidly, stupidly wrong. How peculiarly lonely it was to live with another person who had accepted your heart with thanks but declined to present you with theirs. It wasn’t her fault of course. He had pursued her from the start, so desperate to make her smile, to protect her from all she had suffered. He had offered her a safe haven and could not regret that she had taken it.

But it hadn’t been enough. Sadness overwhelmed him and he might have cried, but for his butler who was even now clearing his throat on the threshold.

“What is it, Jackson?”

“Excuse me, my lord. Mr Crowe is desirous of a moment of your time.”

“Crowe! At this time of the evening?”

“I should mention that Mr Crowe is accompanied by Another Person.” Faint disapproval flitted across Jackson’s face.

Babington felt his miserable stupor lift a little. “Intriguing. Send them in by all means.”

The next moment, a lady he recognised as Clara Brereton walked in with the wide-eyed air of a Drury Lane tragedienne. Behind her, Crowe winked and raised his hand in greeting.

“Evening Bab. You look terrible.”

Babington blinked at them. “What are you doing here?”

Clara clasped her hands. “I am here to inform you of something very shocking.”

“I see. And what about you Crowe?”

Crowe shrugged. “I just want my pocketwatch back.”

***

Charlotte felt both relieved and devastated that Jack had taken to his new home so quickly. Mr and Mrs Heaton were overjoyed to see them all, and within five minutes they were supping on tea and cake in their cheerful kitchen, while Jack chased a tiny black kitten around the table legs. “New, he is,” observed Mr Heaton with pride. “Thought the little lad might like him.” They were entirely unfazed by Lady Susan’s grand presence by their fireside and Charlotte herself, settled into a rocking chair with a cup of tea and Sidney sitting on a low stool beside her, thought that she would be quite happy to stay here forever.

Parting from Jack had been hard; Charlotte hadn’t realised just how attached she had become to him. She watched from a little way off as he clambered on the fence to stroke the horse’s nose. He was already hand in hand with Mrs Heaton, and then laughed in delight as Mr Heaton took him up on his shoulders. A lump rose in her throat.

Beside her, Sidney smiled. “He’ll do.” He looked at her. “Are you alright.”

She gave him a watery smile. “Yes, of course. I’m happy that he’s happy.”

“I know.”

They stood there a while longer. Charlotte didn’t realise that their hands were clasped until Lady Susan gently cleared her throat behind them.

After lunch she wandered into the town, needing to be by herself. Looking idly into windows, she paused by the shoemaker’s shop. This is where she had first seen the blue shoes which had taken her to her first Sanditon ball and the first dance with Sidney. She had not worn them since. The pair in the window were mustard yellow and laced with red ribbons. Charlotte wrinkled her nose.

“Well, aren’t they sweet. Are you thinking of buying them?”

Charlotte stiffened. She had come to know Mrs Campion’s high voice and tinkling laugh over the last two days. She had preferred it when she had been openly hostile.

“No, I don’t believe so. I am not fond of the colour.”

“That’s a shame. I think they would suit you. If you are not too busy, might I prevail upon you for your company. I have been longing to explore the path on the edge of the town.”

“Oh. If you like.”

Eliza took her arm and squeezed it. “Lovely. I have often thought it a great shame that we were not better friends Miss Heywood. I think we have more in common than you might think. And I must hear all about the little boy. Does he like his new home?” 

“I…he seems to like it very well.”

“Oh, I am pleased. Sidney wouldn’t say much about it, but you know what men are.”

They walked in the direction of the cliffs, Eliza maintaining a stream of small talk about this person’s husband or that person’s wedding. “But of course, Miss Heywood, you must be thinking of getting married yourself.”

“I do not have any such thoughts, I assure you.”

“Oh, but you must. You are reaching that age, you know. One or two more years and that country bloom will be fading. I was barely eighteen when I was first married, you know.”

Charlotte gritted her teeth. “I do know.”

There was an unpleasant look in Eliza’s eyes. Then it vanished and she laughed. “Oh yes. Such a villainess I was then. But you see, dear Sidney forgave me and now we are counting the days until we are wed. I will hope for just such a joy for you Miss Heywood. I know Lord Farrow has become very persistent in his attentions. You could hardly hope for a more eligible match.”

Charlotte pulled her arm from Eliza’s. “I cannot imagine how you would know anything of the kind.”

Eliza gave a hard little smile. “Gossip, my dear, of course. My child, he is rich, wealthy and handsome. Most girls would give their eye teeth to have a man of his stature pay them court.”

“It is none of your business.”

Eliza gripped onto her arm. “I rather think it is. Sidney and I will be wed by Christmas, whatever he might have told you, and you must decide whether you continue to nurse this absurd fancy you have or whether you are grown up enough to seek your own happiness.”

Charlotte’s temper, already rising, almost boiled over at this spiteful remark, but then something occurred to her. “Whatever he might have told me? What do you mean?”

Eliza went red but before she could respond, they were interrupted by the thud of hooves and the rumble of a carriage. She drew herself up. “I do not have to explain myself to you, Miss Heywood. I shall take my leave of you if you please.”

She hurried away back down towards the town. Charlotte stood looking after her, both baffled and angry. The feeling of contentment she had retained from the Heatons’ warm kitchen had fled. All she wanted now was to be in Willingden and far away from every single person she had ever met in Sanditon. 

The hooves were getting louder. She turned as a carriage appeared and pulled up beside her. The door swung open and Lord Farrow leaned out. He was without his hat and coat and seemed to be sweating profusely. 

“My dearest Miss Heywood, you must come at once. It is a matter of the greatest urgency.”

She stared at him. An odd feeling stole over her as though she were watching herself in a play. “Lord Farrow? What are you doing here?”

“Never mind that. You must come.”

Charlotte frowned and took a step back. “But what is the emergency? Surely Mr Tom Parker or Dr Fuchs would be better people to call upon?”

He seemed lost for words. “It is just…you must come with me. You _must_.”

A hoarse caw from a solitary crow echoed from the trees. She realised that she was quite alone and a tiny thread of panic curled upwards in her stomach. She shook her head. “No. No, I don’t think that would be wise. If there is an emergency, pray seek help in the town.”

She turned and walked away as calmly as she could. Then she heard footsteps behind her and felt his arms lift her off her feet. “I told you, you have to come with me. I know you want this.” 

She could smell the sweat and fear rolling off him and gagged. She wriggled around in his grasp and was pleased to feel her foot connecting with his shin. He cursed but held on tightly as he carried her back towards the carriage. Then she was in a heap on the dingy cushions and saw the door close behind her.


	8. Truth, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was intended to be one chapter only, but there was so much going on, I'm splitting this section of the story across two chapters instead. The second part will be posted in a few days and then normal service will be resumed for the final two chapters + epilogue. As always, much thanks for your comments and for reading!

Everything and nothing was real. Even as Charlotte collapsed against musty cushions, she felt as though she was dreaming, that soon she would wake up in her bed and it would be time to take Jack to meet his new family. Lord Farrow clambered back into the chaise, and rapped on the roof. There was a jolt and the wheels started to turn.

“What are you doing?”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m so sorry. Miss Heywood…Charlotte. If there had been any other way.”

Her senses returned to her in an instant. “Any other way? There would have been a hundred other ways. What are you thinking?”

She saw his face light up. “You do wish this then? You will make me the happiest man in the world and consent to be my wife?”

All the breath seemed to leave her body. “You’re…are you trying to force me to marry you?”

He grasped at her hands and held them in a clammy grip. “I know, you see. I know you only refused me because your birth is not equal to mine. Please believe me, no one will remark upon it once we are wed.”

She pulled her hands free. “It isn’t true! Why would you think that?”

“But I had my information from your friends. They at least have your best interests at heart.”

“None of my friends would tell you such a thing or encourage you to commit an act of kidnapping.”

He seized the edges of her spencer and tried to drag her to sit beside him. His face was all hope. “I’m not kidnapping you, Charlotte, don’t you see? I’m carrying you off to be married.”

She pulled away from his grasp. He was making no sense. Soon the cliff path would be gone and they would swing out onto the Brighton road. She felt too angry to be afraid. She leaned up and knocked on the roof of the chaise as hard as she could. It halted abruptly and she fell against the door, grasping at the catch with desperate fingers. He lunged at her. “No, I can’t let you go. I can’t. It will ruin me. You don’t understand.”

“Oh I understand. Instead of behaving like a gentleman, you are abducting me as if you were some sort of…of _footpad_.”

His face went red. All pleasantness and sorrow were gone from his eyes. He was grabbing at her arm, trying to drag it away from the door. “I am offering you a considerable fortune, you know, and a title. I find it hard to believe that a lady in your situation would reject such advantages.”

She was pinned against the side of the chaise. Her arm was wedged into the side of the seat. Then her hand brushed cold metal. Her breath caught. She knew what it was instantly. Grasping on to it, she dragged her arm free and pointed a serviceable pistol straight at Lord Farrow.

He dropped her arm and sat back cautiously. “Now, don’t be rash, Miss Heywood.”

She tried to calm her disordered breathing. “I’m going to get down now.” 

The door catch finally gave way under her fingers and she felt the sea air rushing in to meet her. Not wanting to stop to let the steps down, she slid forward and collapsed onto the grass.

He jumped down after her with a hysterical laugh. “Are you going to walk all the way back to Sanditon brandishing a pistol?”

“If I have to.” She scrambled to her feet and pointed the pistol at him again. 

He put his hands up and stepped closer to her. “I’m not going to let you. Pull the trigger if you must.”

Charlotte gritted her teeth and stood her ground. Behind her there was a faint cry of _Miss Heywood_ and then a scream of _Charlotte!_ but all she could think of was keeping her arm up and keeping Lord Farrow away.

***

By three o’clock Sidney was making his way down the stairs of Trafalgar House. He’d spent the hours since lunch sketching out business solutions, making lists of people he might approach. At the top of the list he had inscribed LADY SUSAN in determined capitals. 

As he came downstairs he heard Eliza’s tinkling laugh coming from the back of the house. Before he could make his escape, Tom came bounding down the hallway, his hair on end and a beaming grin on his face. “Sidney! Just the person I wanted to see. Eliza is enchanted with my latest plans. She is going to fund the entire project Sidney. All of it! Is that not a wonder?”

“What?”

“It’s all true, dearest,” Eliza appeared behind Tom. “You should have more faith in your brother. I think he is a visionary.”

Tom’s grin grew ever broader. He pointed at Eliza. “My favourite sister-in-law.”

“Oh, you are a flatterer!” There was that glassy laugh again. 

Sidney gritted his teeth. “May I beg the honour of a few words, Eliza.”

“Very well.” She sighed and sent an arch look in Tom’s direction. “Such a tartar your brother is. Send me the plans directly, I shall need to speak with my lawyer.”

Sidney almost dragged her out of the door. “What are you doing?”

She opened her mouth in apparent indignation. “I am trying to be supportive, Sidney. As I told you I would be.”

“You’re getting his hopes up for nothing. One week, you said and then we would part on mutual terms.”

She turned to him. Her eyes were narrowed and her mouth was pinched into a scowl. “Well, I’ve changed my mind. Tom is clearly in need of funds, and I want to be married. As soon as possible.”

He exhaled. “I have told you how I feel. I will break the engagement one way or another.”

Her jaw tightened but there was a curious look on her face, anger mingled with triumph. “If you are still thinking of Miss Heywood, she won’t have you. I have it on the very best authority that she is to marry Lord Farrow.”

The ground rocked underneath him for a moment; with an effort he kept his expression calm. “On whose authority?”

“On Lord Farrow’s of course. Really Sidney, I don’t know why you’re surprised. How could you hope to compete with a title and a fortune, even if you were free?”

“She doesn’t care for such things,” he said mechanically.

She hissed through her teeth. “Everyone cares for such things. Now stop being ridiculous. I am going to rest before dinner and when we next speak, I expect us to discuss our wedding preparations. Good day.”

She swept inside her house without a backward glance. He stayed outside the door a moment longer, trying to keep a check on the emotions sweeping through him. He had noticed Farrow’s partiality, but he hadn’t detected a similar desire on Charlotte’s part. Or had he not wanted to? Was she indeed about to become Lady Farrow and he’d been so caught up in extricating himself from this damned tangle that he just hadn’t noticed?

He exhaled a shaky breath and strode off towards the stables. All he wanted now was to ride until he was too tired to do anything but sleep.

***

At Sanditon House, all was quiet save for the methodical ticking from the grandfather clock in the corner of the drawing room. 

“The Pagetts have moved away.”

Esther lifted her head at her aunt’s pronouncement but didn’t turn around. “Indeed?”

“Yes. And the Tremaines are to remove to Eastbourne. Why they should wish to do that when they have perfectly good sand here is anyone’s guess.”

There was no response. Lady Denham sighed loudly. “My God, it’s like sharing a drawing room with a ghost. What are you doing Esther?”

Esther, hunched over the writing desk, pen suspended over a blank sheet of paper. “I’m writing letters, aunt.”

Lady Denham sniffed. “Well. I hear Miss Heywood is back in Sanditon.”

“Oh.”

“She’s brought a whole string of people with her as well. And some ragamuffin she found on the streets of London would you believe it.” Lady Denham eyed her niece with suspicion. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about that, have you?”

Esther closed her eyes. She was so fatigued she felt as though an invisible force were pulling her eyelids down. “Not a word, aunt.”

“Hmmm. Mr Sidney Parker is back with that fiancée of his as well. Mighty curious they should all descend upon us at the same time.”

“How so, aunt?”

“I’m old, but I’m not in my dotage yet. Don’t think I didn’t see what was going on all summer.” 

Esther remained silent, her head bowed. Lady Denham got up and went to put a hand on her shoulder. “Why are you here, child? I don’t say that I’m displeased to see you, but you’ve barely spoken three words since you’ve arrived. Are you ill?”

“No, aunt.”

“You’ve not fallen out with Babington, have you?”

“No, aunt.”

“Oh,” Lady Denham threw her hands up and swept towards the door in some dudgeon. “Yes, aunt. No, aunt. If I wanted a conversation like that, I’d get a parrot.” She jabbed her fan in Esther’s direction. “Something’s going on with you my girl, and I will find out what it is, you mark my words.” 

Esther turned back to her letter, a thousand thoughts crowding in on her. _Dearest Babington_ , she wrote. Then she crossed it out. _Darling Babington_. Her pen hovered over the _darling_. She wanted to say it, she wanted to tell him so many times what he meant to her, what he’d become to her. But the words wouldn’t come, it was all locked too deeply inside her. She took a new sheet and started afresh. _Dear Babington_ , she wrote. _I am sorry I left so abruptly. I wish I could have told you why, but it was beyond my capabilities. I fear I am about to bring scandal to your door and only wish that whatever you hear, you will not think too badly of me._

_Yours ever, E_

Her second letter was much more abrupt and directed to the Sun Inn on the edge of the town. _Come this evening at seven if you must. E._

***

Sidney rode out of Sanditon as hard and fast as he could. The sea winds whipped around his head, buffeting his body, rigid with anger. He felt furious with Tom, with himself, with Eliza. He should have proposed to Charlotte earlier. When he’d first kissed her, why hadn’t he done it then? He’d had notions of doing it all properly, but he should have taken the opportunity right there on the cliff top. He couldn’t marry Eliza, he _couldn’t_. But then, what alternatives were there if Tom were not to spend the rest of his days in a debtor’s prison?

With these grim thoughts rattling around his head, he almost didn’t notice the dilapidated post chaise standing motionless on the cliffs. A distressed cry reached his ears. Had there been an accident? The sun was low in the sky and he shaded his eyes, trying to make out what was happening. He was sure he could see Mr Stringer standing over someone lying on the ground, fists clenched. There were two ladies clinging to each other. A bonnet lay on the ground, red ribbons fluttering in the breeze. It looked so much like the one Charlotte had worn that morning…

The next moment he was flying across the turf, his heart pounding in his chest.

He reached the scene and flung himself from his horse. All he could see was Charlotte leaning against the side of the chaise looking like a ghost. A pistol lay in the grass a few paces from her. He strode right up to her and took her hands. “My God, Charlotte, what is it? What happened?”

She looked up at him, her eyes dark with shock. “He tried to abduct me.”

Sidney could barely comprehend what she’d said. “ _Abduct_ you _?_ ”

Alison was next to her, one arm around her sister as she wiped tears from her own face. “That man lying down there. I was walking on the cliffs with Mr Stringer, and then this chaise stopped and Charlotte just _fell_ out of it with a pistol in her hand. Then he jumped out and came after her.”

Sidney felt a chill go right through him. That she’d had to defend herself with a weapon…he didn’t know whether he wanted to take her in his arms, or whether he wanted to go and wring the neck of the man responsible. A horrid thought occurred to him and he put his hand under Charlotte’s chin, looking her in the eyes. “Did you shoot him? Charlotte, it’s alright if you did, you were defending yourself, but you need to tell me.”

She shook her head. Through pale, stiff lips she said, “Mr Stringer knocked him down and then he caught his leg in a hole. I think he’s broken it.”

“His leg?” Sidney looked over to where Mr Stringer was towering over the man in the grass with a furious look on his face.

“Aye.” Stringer looked up. “He deserves worse.”

The man, even now, was struggling to sit up. “Parker. I…I can explain. I’ve been misled. Please.”

White hot fury surged through Sidney as he recognised Lord Farrow. “You! You tried to abduct Miss Heywood?”

Lord Farrow’s breath was coming out in gasps and he was scrabbling at his leg. “Not my fault. My god, my leg is on fire. Please. Please help me.”

“Not your fault? NOT YOUR FAULT? You tried to kidnap a lady and you tell me that it isn’t you fault?” Sidney took two paces towards him and Lord Farrow shrank back. “Give me one good reason, just one, why I should not summon the magistrate this instant and have you thrown into prison?”

Farrow groaned and his head fell back. With a hiss of pain, he bit out the words, “Denham. Denham made me do it. I didn’t know what to do. I thought…he told me it would be romantic.”

“ _Romantic_?” 

Sidney started forward but was stayed by Charlotte’s hand on his sleeve. “Wait. Let me speak to him.”

“Charlotte, you aren’t well.”

She glared at him. “Did he abduct me or you?” He couldn’t think of a response to this, and she went to kneel by Lord Farrow. “Do you mean Edward Denham? He told you to do it?”

“Yes. He said he wanted to help me. I was despondent when you refused me, but he told me I should persist. I didn’t want to take such a drastic step, but he told me if I didn’t, he would tell everyone what I did.”

“What was he going to tell?”

Lord Farrow looked away from her. “Please don’t ask me.”

“I want to understand why you were so willing to ruin my reputation.”

He gave a gasping laugh. “Because otherwise he would have ruined mine. Don’t you understand? Without my reputation, my life would be finished. My God, my father would probably disown me if he knew.”

Charlotte stared at him, a hard look in her eyes that Sidney had never seen before. “Knew what? Tell me now or I will ask Mr Parker to hand you over to the magistrate.”

Farrow closed his eyes and put his hand across his face. “About Miss Atherton.”

Sidney frowned. The name was familiar. There had been talk of a genteel but penniless girl going missing after being seduced, of her widowed father searching desperately across London. He remembered Eliza prattling about it with a strange kind of enjoyment. “My god, Farrow. Don’t tell me that story is true.”

Charlotte was listening to this exchange in confusion. “I don’t understand, Sidney. Who is Miss Atherton?”

For a moment he couldn’t answer. It was the first time she’d used his name. He wasn’t sure she had even realised. He saw Mr Stringer looking at the ground, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “I’ll explain later. Suffice to say that Lord Farrow has behaved as little like a gentleman as is humanly possible. Mr Stringer, we shall need to take him to the Denham Arms and send for the doctor.”

Stringer appeared to be struggling. He nodded. “Aye sir. If you would be so kind as to send the wagon up here, we’ll take him down. I’ll stay with him.”

“Are you sure?”

Stringer looked at him and there was shade of humour in his eyes. “I won’t murder him if that’s your concern. You should take the ladies back in the chaise. You there!” He hailed the coachman who had retired to a nearby stump with a bottle. “We need you to drive back into Sanditon.”

Sidney ignored the loud expletive from the coachman and held out his hand out to Charlotte. “I’ll take you back to Lady Susan.”

She was looking thoroughly shocked. “If Sir Edward is back, should we not inform Lady Denham? He might try to visit her.”

“I’d back Lady Denham against him any day of the week. But you’re right. I’ll go and see her as soon as you are safely back at your lodgings. You need to rest.”

“I’m perfectly alright.” Nevertheless, as she got to her feet, her legs buckled under her. In one swift movement he gathered her up in his arms and carried her over to the chaise. She opened her mouth and he thought she might protest but she only exhaled a deep breath and rested her cheek against the collar of his riding coat.

Alison was waiting by the carriage, clutching Charlotte’s bonnet to her. When Sidney had settled Charlotte in a seat, he turned to hand Alison up. She eyed him narrowly and her voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t like you Mr Parker. I don’t like what you did. But I’m glad you were here.”

He felt that familiar flush of shame at her words, but merely nodded and handed her up to sit with her sister. 

Before they closed the door, Mr Stringer came to lean into the chaise. “I’m glad to see you again Miss Heywood, although I would have wished it under better circumstances.”

Charlotte managed a smile. “I’m glad to see you too, Mr Stringer. Thank you for rescuing me.”

“Reckon you rescued yourself.” He looked at Alison. “Are you feeling better, Miss Alison?”

“Perfectly well, thank you.” She didn’t meet his eyes and after a moment, Stringer marched back to guard his prisoner. 

***

Sidney had never seen Lady Susan angry before. She had been in the middle of serving tea to Tom, Mary and Georgiana but abandoned her station immediately as Sidney brought Charlotte in, dishevelled and pale. Amid a flurry of questions and exclamations from the others, she settled Charlotte on a divan and unbuttoned her spencer with gentle fingers. Then she turned to fetch the brandy decanter and Sidney saw her brows were drawn sharply down over her eyes. “Who is responsible for this outrage?”

“Lord Farrow, ma’am. Aided and abetted by Edward Denham.” He didn’t mention Miss Atherton; there would be time enough for that, and it was an ugly tale.

“I see.” She handed a small glass to Charlotte. “Drink this, my dear, you’ll feel better. Where is he now?”

Charlotte choked as the brandy went down. “He’s broken his leg. Mr Stringer is bringing him to the Denham Arms, isn’t he Alison?”

Alison flushed and looked down at her hands. “I believe so.”

“Hmmm.” Lady Susan considered this. “And where is Edward Denham, Mr Parker?”

“I don’t know. I should go and warn Lady Denham. He might try to gain entry to her house if he thinks he’s being hunted.”

“Very true, brother.” Tom was looking harassed. “We must find him as soon as possible. Endangering our dear Charlotte and the reputation of Sanditon as well. It’s beyond anything!”

Sidney heaved a deep sigh. “For god’s sake Tom, can you think of nothing else?” He saw the hurt on his brother’s face and relented. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”

Tom came and put a hand on his arm. “All forgotten. Take my carriage, it’s likely to be dark soon.”

***

The light was fading by the time the Parkers’ carriage shot forward and onto the road towards Sanditon House. Sidney leaned back against the squabs with a sigh. The peaceful morning spent with the Heatons seemed a lifetime away. He felt a flood of anger every time he thought of Farrow trying to drag Charlotte into that chaise and away. If Alison and Mr Stringer hadn’t happened along…He shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. She was safe and it was the only thing that mattered. _She_ was the only thing that mattered. He would speak to Eliza in the morning and they would end this charade.

Then he sat up. Eliza! He’d forgotten all about her in the chaos but now he remembered their earlier conversation and an uneasy feeling stole over him. Because if Charlotte had actually refused Lord Farrow, how had Eliza come to know anything about it?

He was pondering this conundrum when there was a shout from the coachman. The carriage ground to a halt and he looked out of the window. From another coach further along, he saw a shadowy figure walking towards him. He squinted through the dark.

“Babington?”

***

Edward Denham walked through the gates of Sanditon House, a spring in his step and a whistle on his lips. He could not believe his good fortune, nor the plump pigeons which had fallen into his lap. Now he had a rich patroness in Mrs Campion and that fool Farrow to do his bidding for the rest of his miserable life. 

He winked at the butler as he strolled through the front door. “I believe Lady Babington is expecting me?”

His first impression when he entered the drawing room was that the scene in front of him reminded him of a painting. Esther stood by the mantelpiece, head high and face expressionless. In front of her Lady Denham sat in an ornate armchair as if she were a queen and he were here to pay homage. 

Surprise and outrage mingled on the old lady’s face. “Edward? What gives you the right to invade my house like this? Did I not tell you that you were disowned? Did you temporarily lose your hearing?”

He summoned up his most boyish smile. “I heard you perfectly aunt, and if you wish me to go, I will. But I have been unjustly accused and I want to set things right.” 

“Unjustly accused is it? Well. Esther what do you have to say?”

Esther gazed at him across the room but said nothing. Lady Denham sighed. “Silent as ever.”

Edward took three quick steps and fell on his knees in front of his aunt, taking her hands. “It is Esther who can vouch for me, aunt. The information she gave to you was entirely false. Indeed, she bade me came here tonight so she could make amends.”

Lady Denham twisted round in her seat to look at Esther, so quiet and still behind her. “Is this true?”

Esther bowed her head. “I did send for him aunt.”

“I see. And I suppose you’re going to tell me that you were mistaken in your accusations?”

There was another long silence. Then she spoke. “I was not mistaken, aunt.”

He tried to laugh, suppressing the expletive that rose to his lips. “No, no. You _were_ mistaken, sister, did you not tell me as much?”

She looked at him almost mockingly. “No. It’s what you told me I should tell Aunt Denham.”

Lady Denham was looking from one to the other with increasing bewilderment. “I have no idea what is going on, and I don’t like it. Who, pray, is saying what?”

Esther was clutching the back of Lady Denham’s chair. “Edward has been trying to blackmail me. He said that if I didn’t ask you to reinstate him in your will, he would spread terrible rumours about me.”

“Good God.” Lady Denham pulled her hands away. “Are you so steeped in depravity that you would blackmail your own sister?”

As she pulled away, Edward overbalanced and cracked his hand against the floor. Biting back a curse, he staggered to his feet. “Aunt, you must hear me. She has become deranged. There is nothing she won’t say to see me ruined. And all because I wouldn’t love her in the way she wanted me to.”

Esther let go of the chair and walked slowly over to him. There was barely a hair’s breadth between them. He looked down into her green eyes. “It’s true, isn’t it sister? You did love me once.”

She stared up at him for a moment. Then she drew back and slapped him across his face. “Once perhaps. A twisted, tortured sort of love. But I know what real love is now. And I will not sacrifice it for a miserable villain like you.”

He sneered in her face. “So you would rather your husband spends the rest of his life plagued by rumours of his wife’s proclivities? Is that love?”

There were tears in her eyes, but she met his gaze directly. “Babington knows the truth. We love each other, and that is all that matters to either of us.”

At this declaration a new voice rang out behind them. “Well said, my darling.”

Edward whipped round. Babington was standing in the doorway, still wrapped in his greatcoat. He was flanked by Parker and that drunkard Crowe. Then, from behind them, Clara emerged with an enraging smirk and he knew it was all over.

There was a gasp from Esther which seemed wrenched from the depths of her body. Then she flew across the room and into her husband’s waiting arms. “ _Babington_. What are you doing here? I wrote to you…but you cannot have received it…” She put her hands up to his face. “I love you. So very much, and I’m so sorry.”

“I won’t have you apologising for that, my love,” said Babington unsteadily. Then he bent his head and kissed her.

On the other side of the room, Lady Denham thrust her chair back and stood up. “Will _someone_ kindly tell me what on earth is going on? First Esther tells me she’s being blackmailed and now I’m invaded by a ramshackle collection of people, at least one of whom should not be here. Clara! Did I not send you away?”

Clara came forward, head bowed. “You did, aunt. But then I caught wind of Edward’s plans and immediately resolved to do what I could to help my poor cousin Esther.”

Edward almost gasped in outrage and threw all dissemblance to the four winds. “No you didn’t. You agreed to help me in return for money. You were supposed to go to Babington and tell him that his wife was unfaithful.” 

“But instead, I found his acquaintance Mr Crowe and told him the whole. Then we went to Lord Babington to inform him of the ghastly plot against his wife.” Clara’s eyes were wide and innocent.

“It’s true,” said Crowe. Somehow, he’d located a glass of brandy and was watching the scene with every appearance of enjoyment. “She pawned my pocket watch. Then she found me and told me that she would let me know where it was if I helped her talked to Bab.” He winked at Babington. “Sentimental value. It was my father’s.”

Edward swallowed. “Well, it seems to me that I am the only honest man here, and it pains me, aunt, that you would believe a cabal of liars over your own nephew. I will take myself off now and endeavour to forgive you all.”

“One moment!” Now Sidney Parker was stepping forward one hand up.

Edward all but rolled his eyes. “Well and what do you want?”

“Lord Farrow tried to abduct Miss Charlotte Heywood this afternoon. He says you helped him do it.”

Edward felt panic spiralling up inside him. Blackmail was one thing, but kidnapping could so easily mean prison. “Lies. More lies. I don’t know a Lord Farrow.”

Sidney’s face was grim. “He knows you. He’s lying at the Denham Arms with a broken leg swearing that you forced him into it by blackmail.”

Lady Denham threw her hands up. “More blackmail. And kidnapping a lady as well? You are a blackguard, sir.”

Edward felt his heart beating in his throat. “It isn’t true damn it. What would I blackmail him with? He’s the dullest man in Christendom.”

Sidney raised his brows. “I suppose you’ve heard of Miss Atherton?”

“Good God!” Babington looked up from his wife, his face suddenly hard. “I’ve heard enough. I will summon the magistrate in the morning if you don’t object Lady Denham?”

“Object? I’ll drive him to the prison myself.”

“Wait! Wait!” Edward fumbled in his pocket for that scrap of paper, his last roll of the dice. “The kidnapping…very wrong, I know. But it wasn’t just me. I was acting on behalf of another. A lady. If I give you proof, will you let me go? I’ll get on a boat to France and I won’t look back. My word as a gentleman.”

Sidney was suddenly pale. “What evidence?”

Edward held it back. “Your word, Parker! Aunt? Putting me in prison would cause a great scandal, would it not?”

Lady Denham seemed to slump in her chair. Sidney glanced at Babington and then nodded; his mouth set in grim lines. Edward drew a shuddering breath and handed over the note. “From your own fiancée, Parker. She has no love for Miss Heywood. I cannot imagine why not.”

Sidney smoothed out the note. His hand shook slightly. Then he handed it to Babington with a speaking glance. “Lady Denham, will you be satisfied if Edward leaves here and goes to France?”

“As long as he doesn’t come back.” She rang the bell. “For now, you can kick your heels in the cellar. My footmen will help you onto the boat in the morning. And if you help yourself to my wine while you’re down there, I’ll know!”

***

Sidney stalked towards Eliza’s lodgings, feeling as tightly wound as a spring. He had known that she didn’t like Charlotte, had understood why it was so, but this…an actual abduction. The whole affair sounded so gothic that if he’d heard the story from another person, he would probably have dismissed it as melodramatic rumours. 

The note burned a hole in his pocket. He could see the contents now, in Eliza’s elegant script. _To ED…circumstances have changed, and I urge you to increase your efforts and do everything you can to remove the obstacle we discussed by whatever method you think necessary. We are all of us for Sanditon tomorrow. Pray come too, and bring Lord F with you. I await your speedy response. EC._

He knew what it meant; he knew that he was free. But he couldn’t be glad of it when all he could see was Charlotte’s paper white face and shaking hands. He would have gone to the ends of the earth to prevent her from suffering what she did.

He rapped on the door, too angry to care who heard the echoes down the empty street. At length the door cautiously opened and Eliza’s maid poked her head out. “Mistress has retired and is not to be disturbed. She was exceeding angry you didn’t join her for dinner.”

“Was she.” Several biting retorts leapt to Sidney’s tongue and he repressed them with an effort. “Very well. Please inform Mrs Campion that I will wait on her in the morning. First thing.”

She glared at him and shut the door with a sour click. He sighed. There was a hum of merriment coming from the Denham Arms; he was sorely tempted to go and have several drinks to take the edge off the day. 

Resolutely he turned about and marched back towards Trafalgar House.


	9. Truth, part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is part 2. The penultimate chapter will be posted next week :-)

When Charlotte awoke it was still dark. She slid out of bed and peeped out of the heavy brocade curtains. Tendrils of light were creeping through the sky; she could see shadows beginning to form in the streets below. 

From the bed there was a sigh. Alison turned over, muttering in her sleep. Her face was no longer stained with tears, but Charlotte still felt inordinately guilty. Alison had insisted on staying with her overnight but had become quieter and quieter until she had broken down altogether and everything had come out. She loved Mr Stringer; in fact, she had fallen in love with him at first sight but had realised that afternoon that he was in love with her own sister. 

Charlotte had been inclined to deny this at first, but then one or two memories bobbed to the surface. Her summer had been entirely dominated by Sidney Parker, but in truth she had been faintly aware of Mr Stringer’s feelings – it was a certain warmth in his eyes, and perhaps what he had said to her when they had parted. Alison was heartbroken and couldn’t be comforted; she had told her all about how Mr Stringer had pounded towards the coach, taking Lord Farrow by the collar and striking him with such force that he had seemed like a man possessed. “And then, you know, the way he was staring at Mr Parker and you, as if he was furious. I knew then that he must be in love with you too.” Tears had welled up in her eyes. “I declare,” she said a little time later with an attempt at levity, “you had more adventures in Sanditon than you told me.” 

When they had gone to bed, both of them lay staring into the dark, not knowing what to say to each other.

The dawn was breaking now, spilling red over the rooftops of the town. The house was quiet. Susan would not be stirring for a few hours yet. Charlotte tugged a dress from the closet and stole out of the room.

She wandered in the direction of the beach and eventually found herself back at the cove. She had not been there since the day she’d seen Sidney rise up from the waves like some sort of Poseidon. The thought of it made her feel hot and cold all over and she wrapped her arms around herself. Everything was such a muddle. The shock of the attempted abduction was still with her, and now Alison was unhappy and it felt like her fault. Sidney Parker was both far too close, and also not close enough. Charlotte herself found herself daydreaming about him constantly, and knew she was perilously near to forgetting that Eliza Campion existed at all. She resolved there and then to take care that they were not alone in each other’s company until they were parted once again.

She should have known it wouldn’t be at all possible. At that precise moment she heard her name being called. Looking up, she saw him marching towards her, the rising sun lighting the severe angles of his face. She hastily wiped the tears which had collected in her eyes and arranged her face into a polite smile.

“Mr Parker.”

He strode right up to her without ceremony. “You shouldn’t be here by yourself, not after yesterday.”

Her shy awkwardness vanished like smoke and in its place she felt a spark of annoyance. “I’m not in danger. Lord Farrow is in bed with a broken leg. How could he possibly try to abduct me again?”

“I’m not saying _he_ could; but what if someone else tried.”

She was rapidly reaching the end of her patience with him, with Sanditon and with everyone in it. She put her hands on her hips. “Well and how would they possible drag a large travelling carriage over the cliffs and all the way down here? Or are they going to try abducting me by boat?”

He cast his eyes to the heavens. “They…look, just don’t walk around by yourself. Please Charlotte.”

“Are you actually ordering me to stay inside unless I have a chaperone?”

“I’m _telling_ you that it’s safer.” 

She took a step closer, feeling herself losing her grip on her temper. “You don’t have the right to tell me anything.”

He stepped closer still in response. “It isn’t about rights.” His voice was hoarse and his eyes had that dark, furious look that she remembered from their previous arguments. “It’s about keeping you safe. I won’t apologise for concerning myself with your wellbeing.”

“My wellbeing?” she snapped. “My wellbeing stopped being your concern the moment you engaged yourself to Mrs Campion.”

“You _know_ why I had to do that.”

“Yes I do, and it doesn’t make me feel any better. If you’d only _told_ me how bad things were, what you might have to do…”

“ _How_ could I have told you that? I didn’t even know myself. All I knew when I left you that day was that I wanted to come back to you. I _intended_ to come back to you.”

“But you didn’t. You made a choice to save Tom, and I understand that, I do. But I wasn’t able to choose. All I could do was accept it and smile and pretend I was well. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done and I’m just so _angry_ with you.”

They stood gazing at each other, breathing heavily. For one wonderful, awful moment she knew an impulse to seize him and kiss away the tormented look on his face. Then a seagull screeched overhead and the spell was broken. She dragged her eyes away. “I’m sorry, I’m still overset from yesterday I think.”

“Oh God, Charlotte.” He took her face in his hands and his forehead came to rest against hers. “You’ve every right to be angry. There isn’t a day that’s gone by since we parted that I haven’t wished I’d done things differently.”

She shook her head. “But how could we have been happy together when Tom and Mary were suffering. And the children. Perhaps we might have weathered the storm or perhaps it would have eaten away at us.”

She felt his hands slide down to rest on her shoulders. “Charlotte…” She could hear the hesitation in his voice. “I should have told you. I think…no, I know that my situation is going to change. I’m not telling you because I think it will make everything right between us, but…I do want you to know.”

Startled, she drew back from his arms. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “As it turns out, Edward Denham, as well as planning your abduction, has also been trying to blackmail Esther Babington into reinstating his position with Lady Denham.”

“Oh _no!_ Poor Esther.”

“She’ll be alright. She exposed his plans in front of everyone there.” At Charlotte’s fascinated gaze, he smiled a little. “She was magnificent, and Babs is more in love than ever.”

Charlotte couldn’t help a laugh escaping her; the whole tangle was so ridiculous. “But what does that have to do with your situation?”

“Let us walk a little.” He offered his arm. “You see…in the heat of the moment, it came out that Eliza was partly responsible for your abduction.”

Her mouth fell open, and she stopped dead. “What?”

The anger was back in his eyes. “Edward gave up a note she’d written to him. Between that and his confession there can be no doubt.”

“But why?”

He grimaced. “I think she saw you as a rival.”

She pulled her arm away and turned to look out at the sea. The idea of that much malice being directed at her was overwhelming. “What are you going to do?”

“Well, I’m not going to marry her. And she won’t be able to object to the engagement being broken now.” He turned her towards him and took her hands. “The fact is that I told her before we left London, before any of this, that we should end things. She asked for one week to consider. I think she was hoping that spending time with my family would convince me to stay with her.”

Charlotte felt heat sweep over her. A tiny, treacherous part of her was overjoyed, but this was swept away by a wave of indignation. After everything that had happened this week; her tumbled emotions, her guilty enjoyment of the time they spent together, it was all too much.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I couldn’t. I didn’t want to until things were settled. I had hoped she would agree to a mutual parting. Then at least I could spare my family the disgrace of breaking the engagement myself.”

She could feel the anger rising in her again. “And you really thought she would let you?”

“I _hoped_. My God, all I’ve had these last few months is hope. And when I saw you again in London…” He shook his head. “I began to believe that the impossible might be possible.”

His eyes were bright. Fresh tears welled up in her own. Part of her wanted so much to fling herself into his arms and grasp on to the happiness which now seemed within reach. But she was so very tired, tired of putting a brave face on her unhappiness, tired of always being one step behind him, noble reasons or no. All she wanted now was peace and quiet and a chance to think.

“What do you want me to say? You’re still engaged, aren’t you? You’re still engaged and Tom still needs money and I…I can’t _be_ here anymore. Every time I think I have things straight in my head, something else comes along to upset it all. I think I have to leave.”

“Leave Sanditon?”

She couldn’t look at him; if she did, her resolve would give way. “Yes. I’m going to see Jack and then I want to go home. As soon as it can be managed.” Then she pulled her hands away and hurried back towards the beach feeling as though her heart, so carefully stitched together, was about to come apart again.

***

When Babington awoke and stretched out a sleepy arm, the bed was empty. His heart skipped a beat and he sat up, fighting through his drowsiness. “Esther?”

“You’re awake. I thought I might have to sit here all morning watching you sleep.”

Esther was sitting in the window seat, wrapped in the counterpane. Her head was leaning against the window, frosted from the early morning chill. 

He sighed and fell back on his pillow. “It felt like you’d gone again.”

She smiled at him, her eyes soft. “I have no intention of going anywhere again without you. Within reason of course.” She exhaled and turned back towards the window. “I’ve been watching the dawn break.”

Babington gazed at her a moment. The first rays were lighting up her hair as if it were the sun itself. He loved her so much, his beautiful warrior wife. He didn’t think he would ever forget seeing her in the drawing room, speaking out for him, standing proud and defiant against the evil which chased her. She had gone to hell and back for him, and yet now she seemed serene. At peace. “How are you feeling this morning my dear?”

She sighed. “As though there were no more weight on my shoulders. I realised last night that he had no power over me anymore. I feel…content. Such an odd feeling. I fear I shall become quite a dull, quiet thing now.” Her eyes were dancing, and he laughed in response.

“You are quite magnificent, wife, and you will continue to be so in whatever way you choose.”

“I wish I could choose to sleep, but I am quite awake.”

He pulled back the covers. “Come back to bed my love. At least rest for a while even if you can’t sleep. You’re still too pale for my liking.”

She cast her eyes down, looking as though something were amusing her. Then she dropped the counterpane on the floor and slid back between the sheets and into his waiting arms. He kissed her soundly. “That’s right. We should stay here a while. Let the sea air put some colour back in your cheeks. Lady Denham says you’ve barely eaten a thing since you’ve been here.”

Esther had the oddest look on her face. He frowned. “What is it? Are you still troubled by what happened?”

She bit her lip. “Not entirely. You see, I am likely to be unwell a little while longer, my lord, and the blame for that lies squarely at your door.”

He blinked. “My door? What did I do?”

She laughed softly. “More than enough.”

He stared at her in confusion. She raised her brows and there was a spark of mischief in them. And then his heart leapt, and he understood. “Esther! Are you sure?”

“As sure as I can be. At first I wasn’t certain if it was all this horrid business making me feel so ill, but all the right signs are there. I can’t tell you how sick I’ve been.”

Joy and surprise surged through him, he could only wrap his arms around her and bury his head in her shoulder. “I can’t believe it! My darling, darling girl. What a time you’ve been having of it, and I wasn’t there to help you. I’m so sorry.”

“No. How should you be sorry when it was I who chased you away. I was so afraid of what Edward might do, you see, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. Forgive me?”

“There is nothing to forgive. As you well know.”

She put her arms around his neck, and he slid his hand down to rest on her stomach. He felt her smile against his cheek.

“Babington?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

***

Sidney marched towards Eliza’s lodgings. She must be awake now and he wouldn’t waste a moment more. He had gone down to the cove to clear his head, maybe let the chill of the water take away some of the taint of the last few days. His encounter with Charlotte had left him feeling raw and devastated, but he felt more determined than ever to take hold of his life for his own, to prove to her that he could be worthy of her.

He found Eliza drinking tea and looking over papers. “Sidney, dear. I’ve just been consulting the plans that Tom sent me. Very daring, I must say, to take on the Prince Regent at his own game. I am very tempted to invest.”

Fury and contempt mingled in his breast; he couldn’t speak. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t look so out of sorts. I’ve decided to forgive you for not joining me for dinner last night.”

“My apologies, madam. An attempt was made to abduct Miss Heywood yesterday. As you can imagine, I have been much occupied in discovering all the circumstances behind it.”

Her cup stopped against her lips. “How very shocking, to be sure. But perhaps she is not being entirely truthful. A lady discovered eloping might well attempt to throw blame on her lover.”

He ignored this. “How did you know that Miss Heywood was to marry Lord Farrow?”

She put her cup down with a clatter; there was a faint tremor in her hand. “Really Sidney, I’ve put up with it long enough, but this obsession with Miss Heywood needs to stop.”

“ _How?_ ”

There was a sheen of colour on her cheeks. “I don’t know. Town gossip, that sort of thing. Everyone knew he was going to make her an offer. You are being very unreasonable and rude, Sidney.”

“Everyone knew, did they? And was everyone so convinced that she would accept?”

“Well of course she was going to accept. A man with a fortune and a title? Why would she not?”

“Not everyone has mercenary motives, Charlotte least of all. You don’t know her and so you judged her by your own standards.”

Eliza sneered. “And yours, _dearest_. You agreed to marry me for money after all.”

“I did. I am here to remedy that. Madam, our engagement is at an end. I request that you immediately leave Sanditon and never come back.”

She laughed, high and sharp. “You can’t do that. You know what I’ll do to you, to your family. I know you care too much to let them be ruined.”

He grasped on the mantelpiece, trying to control his anger. “Enough of this. I can, and I will. I must inform you, madam, that I know you plotted with Edward Denham to have Charlotte kidnapped and forced into marriage. Believe me, our engagement is at an end, and you may be thankful that I do not take further action with the magistrate.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “What…what gothic nonsense. Have you been reading too much Mrs Radcliffe? You’ll be telling me that footpads were involved next.”

“Not footpads, ma’am, but a villain, most certainly.” He dragged her note out of his pocket and held it up. “Shall I read this back to you? I had it from Edward Denham himself. You should never have trusted a man like him, Eliza. He would sell out his own grandmother if he could profit by it.”

Her face seemed to collapse and there were tears shining in her eyes. “That note…it doesn’t prove a thing. I was asking him to help me with…with acquiring something I needed. Quite inconsequential. Don’t you see he’s trying to revenge himself on me by ruining our wedding?”

“And why would he want revenge upon you?”

“I…” She was struggling to speak.

“Quite. He’s already been caught trying to blackmail his own stepsister, Lady Babington. He has nothing left to lose.”

“She’s his _sister_?”

“How can you not have known? He’s tormented her most of her life. I had to throw him out of Sanditon myself.” He looked at her for a moment and then let out a sigh. “Enough. I have discharged my duty. Please leave today.”

He turned to go. She flew across the room and clutched on to his sleeve. “Please Sidney. I’m sorry. Truly I am. I just wanted to be with you. I wanted us to be happy and I knew you would never be so while she was free. Is it such a crime to help another lady to achieve an eligible match? I never meant harm to come to her.” She gathered up her reticule with shaking hands. “I’ll go to her. I’ll confess and I’ll tell her I’m sorry.”

“It’s too late. And as for Farrow being eligible, I don’t know of any parents who would consent to their daughter marrying a man who was responsible for the disappearance of a young lady. He admitted it himself.”

She swallowed. “That…that is very bad to be sure. In that case, I am happy that the attempt was foiled. I’m sure I should never have taken an interest had I known.”

At that his temper broke and he turned furious eyes on her. “The attempt that _you_ engineered, madam! What possessed you to even think that this was a reasonable thing to do? She could have been seriously harmed and her reputation sullied beyond repair.”

“ _Well, and_ _good riddance to her_ ,” Eliza shouted back. She clapped a hand over her mouth and took a shuddering breath. “Mr Parker. I see no value in continuing our engagement. You are a brute and a bully and you are so…so _dull_. All those months scowling in corners and being silent in company. I need a gentleman by my side, not a country boy masquerading as one.”

His anger ebbed away leaving only contempt. “If this story gets out, it’s unlikely that anyone, gentleman or no, would seek you out.”

She stared at him and there was pure hatred on her face. “Are you actually blackmailing me?”

He shook his head. “No. There’s been too much of that going on, and I won’t be party to it. I suggest we agree to end our engagement and inform society that it was a mutual decision.”

“And what about my money?” she hissed. “Are you stealing that as well?”

“Your money will be returned to you as soon as possible. On that matter you have my word.” His heart raced in his chest even as he said this. He didn’t know how they would manage now, nor even when they could return Eliza’s money, but it would be done, even if they had to close Sanditon up forever.

Her fingers were tearing the strings of her reticule to shreds. “I will leave today. Please oblige me by sending a notice to the Times that our engagement is at an end.”

“Of course.” He picked up his hat. “Goodbye, Eliza.”

As he made his way back down the stairs, he heard a crash of china and she shouted after him. “She won’t want you now anyway, after everything you’ve put her through.”

He drew his breath in sharply, but carried on down the stairs and didn’t look back.

***

Georgiana stared disconsolately through a shop window, not really seeing the piles of ribbons and buttons. The shock of seeing Charlotte yesterday, dishevelled and pale, a tale of abduction on her lips, had been too much to bear. The night had brought back the terrors, the feeling of strange hands dragging her into the dark, rough voices and the perfumed stench of the brothel they’d brought her too. Sometimes she dreamed that Sidney had not caught up with Mr Howard and that she was trapped in a nightmare with a gross, heavy-breathed man crushing her spirit and crushing her body. 

She’d had no one to talk to when she’d woken up sweating and shaking. Alison’s bed was empty and she didn’t feel she could confide in Mary who seemed like the kind of sensible person who would never fall in love with a gambler and nearly pay for it with her life. In her fear, Georgiana had turned to the only thing which brought her comfort; the small bundle of letters which still arrived from London every now and then, and were smuggled in to the house by her faithful maid. She felt her reticule now for the wad of paper she carried around like a talisman. She hadn’t answered any of them; his professed love crossed every single page, but she couldn’t bring herself to respond in kind. Every time she lifted her pen, she was back in that carriage again. She still loved him beyond anything. She was sure she did. But something stopped her from telling him so. 

She swallowed down the tears threatening to overwhelm her. Then she felt a gentle pressure on her arm and Lady Susan’s well-modulated voice in her ear. “Are you quite well, Miss Lambe?”

Georgiana turned. Lady Susan was looking at her with such kind sympathy. Tom was oblivious to anything but Sanditon, Mary was motherly but always distracted and expecting anything like that from Sidney was out of the question. It felt like such a long time since anyone had asked her how she did. She blinked rapidly, trying to control her voice. “Quite well ma’am. Just…I’m just so _unhappy_.”

“Well we cannot have that. Do you know, Charlotte is gone to visit little Jack and I am quite alone. Shall we have some tea and see what we can do?”

***

Sidney made his way swiftly back to Trafalgar House. He had no faith in Eliza’s ability to leave things alone. He had to speak to Tom now before word got out. He thrust into the hallway before the door was fairly open. “Tom? We need to talk.”

Tom emerged from the drawing room, as hale as ever. “Sidney! Just in time. Arthur and Diana have this minute arrived from London.”

“Have they?”

“They were most concerned about little Jack. I have set their minds at rest.”

Sidney walked into the drawing room. All of them were there, Mary quiet by the fireplace, Arthur helping himself to sandwiches and Diana fidgeting in her chair. She looked up as Sidney entered. “Oh dear. Tom told us all about poor Miss Heywood. I would never have thought of such a thing. And Lord Farrow! He always seemed such a gentlemanly soul. But Tom tells us that he was corrupted by that villain Edward Denham.”

“I think he was corrupted long before that.”

“It’s true.” Tom looked uncharacteristically grim. “I went with Lady Susan this morning to visit Lord Farrow and she dragged the whole sordid tale from him. You remember Miss Atherton, Diana? Good family but poor as church mice. She was sent to London with an old aunt to try and make a match. It seems that Farrow promised her marriage, seduced her and then abandoned her. She had a child, no one knows where, and then found him at a public house in Rotherhithe where Denham was also drinking. She begged Farrow for help in front of his friends, but he pretended he didn’t know her and had the landlord throw her out into the street.”

Diana was dabbing at her eyes. “According to the gossip, her father found her and the child lifeless in a poor house.”

“So that’s it?” said Sidney grimly. “My God, if it had come out, Farrow’s reputation would have been ruined. No wonder Edward got his claws into him so easily.”

“Ah well. A terrible thing. But now all is well, and Denham has been discovered has he not.”

Sidney hesitated. “Yes. But Tom…”

“And now we can concentrate on Sanditon once again. But where is Eliza? I hope she approved of the plans I sent over yesterday?”

Sidney sighed. “Tom…Eliza isn’t coming.”

Tom blanched. “She isn’t coming today?”

“Ever. She is leaving Sanditon today. We’re not going to be married.”

There was a stunned silence. Tom recovered first. “What do you mean, you’re not going to be married? Surely there must be some mistake. Have you argued? If you have, you must go after her and apologise. I’m sure this can all be smoothed over.”

“It cannot. When I tell you what she did, you will understand.”

“Understand? Without her money, we’re all ruined. What about me, brother? What about _Sanditon_?”

“Oh _Tom_!” Sidney threw his hat down on a table. “Sanditon! It’s always Sanditon. You’re obsessed with it, and you seem quite content to sacrifice all of us on its altar.”

Tom laughed hysterically. “Sacrifice? The sacrifice has been all mine.”

Mary stood up. “Tom, don’t…”

“No Mary, I must say it. After everything I’ve done, after I dragged Sidney out of the mire, paid all his debts, settled him into a good living. I ask you, what sacrifice has he ever made for me? For this town?”

Arthur finished his sandwich. “He was going to marry a woman he didn’t love.”

Tom opened and closed his mouth, but no words came out. Arthur folded his arms and fixed Sidney with a beady eye. “It’s true isn’t it, Sidney? You agreed to marry her to save Tom and for no other reason. And we let you do it. We have all of us behaved very ill and I’m sorry for it.”

Tom was muttering and shaking his head. “No. No, I don’t believe it. Ten years you carried her in your heart. It makes no sense.”

Sidney sighed. “Tom, I was a boy of seventeen. What did I know about love? I was infatuated with her and I nearly let it destroy me.”

“Perhaps it was infatuation then, Sidney, but I saw you this summer. At the ball when she appeared. You cannot tell me that you felt nothing. It was all over your face.”

“Tom, it wasn’t…”

“No! I will not hear you. You have thrown away everything and now I will not be able to protect my own family against ruination. I…Oh God, I need air.”

He stumbled to the door and wrenched it open. Mary started forward before Sidney put a hand on her arm. “I’ll go. I have to make him see sense somehow.”

She fixed him with a fierce gaze. “You have to tell him the truth. All of it.”

He stared back for a long moment. Then he nodded and headed to the door.

***

Sidney could see Tom in the distance, making for the cliffs, his head bowed low against the wind. He picked up his pace until he was almost running through the town. At the edge of the cliff path he heard a shout. Babington was waving his hat, his face all smiles. “Sidney! Well met.”

Sidney stopped and tried to catch his breath. “Babs, I trust Lady Babington is well after her ordeal.”

Babington clapped him on the back. “Never better. In fact…”

“I can’t stay, I’m sorry. I’ve just broken with Eliza. Tom isn’t taking it well. I need to find him before he does something stupid.”

Babington squinted up at the path where Tom’s tiny figure stomped ahead. “Let me come. I might be able to help talk sense into him.”

They hurried up towards the top of the cliffs. In the distance they saw Tom, standing at the edge, his arms wrapped around himself.

“Tom,” Sidney shouted. His voice was whipped away by the wind. They stumbled over and took his arms. “Step back, Tom, step back.”

Tom’s face was ashen. He clutched on to Sidney, eyes wild. “What am I going to do? I’ve lost everything. And Mary and the children. What will they do?”

Sidney took hold of him. “We will manage, Tom. We’ll come about if I have to make ten sea voyages to restore our fortunes.”

“Why did you do it, Sidney? Why did you break with her? Of course I understand that you want to be happy, but I thought she was the woman to make you so. Couldn’t you learn to love her again? Just a little?”

Sidney looked him in the eyes. “I can’t. And even if I could…Tom, she was partly responsible for Charlotte’s abduction. Edward Denham gave up a note she’d written to him about it.”

Babington was nodding. “It’s all true. I was there when he confessed.”

Tom seemed to be having difficulty breathing. “But…but why? Why would she do such a thing?”

Babington all but rolled his eyes. “My God man, I make allowances for your single-minded devotion to all things Sanditon, but even you are not so blind.”

Tom was looking between the two of them like a bewildered child. “I don’t understand.”

Sidney looked at Babington. “Will you give us a moment?”

“Of course.” He walked away a few paces and turned his back.

“Tom, I need to tell you what happened this summer. The fact is…” Sidney paused as a flash of light caught his eye to one side. He turned and saw Edward Denham standing a little way away, aiming a pistol straight at…

“ _Babs!”_

The pistol cracked loud, echoing off the cliffs. Sidney leapt forward and pushed Babington down on the grass. The next moment he felt his shoulder go cold.

He saw Tom running towards him. In the distance, Edward Denham threw the pistol down and scrambled away.

Babington got to his feet, breathing heavily. “What in the world. I…Good God, _Sidney!_ ”

Sidney looked down. Blood was spreading across the white lawn of his shirt. He felt his head swim; his knees were suddenly as weak as water. “ _Damn_ ,” he said faintly and fell into darkness.


	10. Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been absolutely blown away by all your comments, thank you so much!
> 
> This is the penultimate chapter. Much healing and airing of grievances in preparation for the finale which I've been dying to write since I started this, and which will be posted next week.

There were voices coming from very far away and an acrid taste in his mouth. He could hear…Tom, was it? Shouting about a pistol and Edward Denham. Over his head, Babington was shouting back, and then he felt pressure on his shoulder and an intense pain which made him swear long and loud. “Sorry, Sidney, can’t be helped. We have to contain the bleeding as much as we can. Tom’s going for help.”

 _Tom can’t help_ , he wanted to say, but then the pain grew less and the blackness rose up to meet him once more.

***

“Miss Heywood!”

Alison jumped, startled out of her sad contemplation of a bonnet in an ugly shade of purple. Mr Stringer was standing by the smithy looking at her with consternation. As he began shouldering his way towards her through the market crowds, she turned heel and hurried away. She was feeling miserable and embarrassed and utterly ashamed of her behaviour towards Charlotte. Most of all she simply couldn’t bear to look at him now that she knew where his heart lay.

He caught up with her seconds later and took her arm. “What is it?”

She pulled away. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

He shook his head. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretending to be well when you aren’t. It isn’t like you.”

“You don’t know me.”

He took his hat off and moved a little closer. “I have got to know you, over these last weeks. You’ve always been honest with me. But now you won’t even speak to me.”

She flushed miserably. “I beg your pardon. I am not feeling myself this morning.”

The tips of his ears went red. “Of course. How is your sister?”

“Better.” She ventured a look at him. “You…you like her very much, don’t you? I saw your face yesterday. I thought you might kill that man.”

There was a strange look in his eyes. “You think I have feelings for her?”

She glared at him. “Don’t treat me like a simpleton, I beg of you. You fell in love with my sister during the summer and when you came visiting and you saw me, you…you were _disappointed_.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “No…yes. I mean, only at first.” 

Mortified, she started walking away. He ran to stop her. “Wait, _wait_. I won’t lie to you. I did feel tenderly towards her back then. But now…things feel so different, I…” He clutched at his hair. “I can’t…I’m not a speaking man, Miss Heywood. What I want to say is…”

It was to remain unsaid. At that moment they were interrupted by a hoarse and desperate cry. Tom Parker was stumbling down the cliff path, his face white and the sleeves of his shirt covered in blood. “Mr Stringer! My brother’s been shot. Up on the cliffs. I need to find a carriage or a wagon this minute, and the doctor must be alerted. _Help me_!”

***

Georgiana looked down on the street from Lady Susan’s drawing room windows. Already she felt better, as if the dreadful weight in her stomach, the sadness and fear, had lightened. Lady Susan herself was an excellent counsel. She had a way of asking questions that lit the way instead of telling her what she must think and feel. At least now she understood what she should do…no, what she _wanted_ to do. Idly she watched a travelling carriage bowl down the street and saw a face peep out of it for a moment. She frowned. “I do believe Mrs Campion is leaving town.”

Behind her, Lady Susan poured more tea. “About time. I hope it’s permanent. Come and sit down, my dear. Charlotte should be home soon from the Heatons’ and then we shall talk some more. I think you’ve missed her companionship.”

Georgiana shrugged. “I thought it would be different when she came back, but I’ve barely seen her. She’s been too wrapped up in that little boy. And other things.”

“And you know better than most how consuming those _other things_ can be.”

Georgiana grimaced in response. Before she turned away, something caught her eye. There were urgent shouts and people milling about a small cart. She squinted down. There was someone who looked like Mr Stringer and she was sure she could see Alison holding on to a man who might be Tom. They were clustered around something, or someone, and through the blurred window glass there were flashes of red upon white. Then the crowd parted, and Georgiana gasped.

“What is it my dear?”

“It’s Sidney. I think he’s been hurt. There’s a lot of blood.”

Lady Susan moved like lightning towards the window. She took one look and Georgiana could hear the breath catch in her throat. “We must fetch Charlotte at once.”

***

The pain in his shoulder was indescribable. It felt as though the whole of his left side was on fire. Dimly, he was aware of hands supporting him and his boots dragging along the floor of Trafalgar House. Then he was on a table and Dr Fuchs was looming over him, sleeves rolled up. “One tiny moment Herr Parker.”

“ _Damn it_!”

The doctor patted his good arm. “A thousand apologies, I was obliged to cut off your coat. Next time have your tailor make it up less fitted, eh?”

Sidney gritted his teeth as the doctor examined the wound. “The bullet is still there. Intact, luckily for you. I will need to extract it. Herr Parker, I suggest you drink as much brandy as you can.”

Then he felt a cool hand on his forehead and someone touching a flask to his lips. He almost said the word that came into his head, _Charlotte_ , but then he opened his eyes and saw Mary’s kind eyes looking down at him. He coughed. “Denham is still out there. He meant to fire at Babington, you know.”

“Mr Stringer has his men out looking for him.”

He nodded with an effort. “Mary, if I don’t come through, would you tell Charlotte something for me?”

“Don’t talk like that Sidney, of course you’re going to pull through.”

“ _If_ I don’t. You know, don’t you? What she means to me?”

“Yes. I promise I’ll tell her so, if you wish it.”

“Thank you.” He exhaled through the pain and felt another measure of brandy being tipped down his throat.

“Now then, Herr Parker. Brace yourself and this will be over in the swiftest of moments.”

The cry of pain which echoed through the hallways made Mary devoutly thankful that the children were not in the house.

***

Charlotte made her way slowly and somewhat unwillingly towards the town. She had been heartened to see how well Jack looked and how high his spirits were. The Heatons were fond and proud foster parents, and Jack himself had dragged her all over the farm pointing out the horse and the donkeys and the chickens which made him eggs. It had cheered her up after her unsettling encounter with Sidney at the beach, but as she reached the edge of the market, she was aware of a heaviness of spirit. She was going to have to speak to Alison about Mr Stringer and she knew she had been neglecting Georgiana. All she really wanted to do was curl up under the covers of her bed and sleep until she was back in Willingden.

Then she saw both Georgiana and Alison running towards her. Alison’s bonnet was bobbing around her shoulders and both of them looked almost wild with shock. Charlotte’s heart dropped to her stomach.

“What is it, what’s happened?”

They were both speaking at once, words tumbling over each other. “Sidney, it’s Sidney…”

“He’s been shot…”

“It was Edward Denham…”

“There was so much _blood_ , Charlotte.”

Charlotte suddenly felt as though there were no ground under her feet. “Shot…no, he can’t be. Is he…is he…?”

“No, no.” Alison gripped her hand. “Through the shoulder. He’s alive but he’s in a bad way. He’s at Trafalgar House with the doctor."

Charlotte set off running, ignoring the curious looks of the passers-by. She could hear the heavy breathing of the others as they followed her through the streets, but she didn’t look back.

By some sixth sense, Mary seemed to know they would be coming. As they flew to the door, she came out, flanked by Lady Susan. She put her hands out to Charlotte, “It’s alright, he’s going to be alright. Dr Fuchs got the bullet out and he’s stopped the bleeding."

Charlotte held on to Mary, gasping through painful lungs. Her legs felt weak from relief. “Thank God. Please can I see him?”

“Not now, my dear. We had to give him a lot of brandy to alleviate the pain of the operation and he isn’t fit for anything but sleep. I promise I will send a note the minute he is awake and feeling better.”

Georgiana was standing motionless. “He is going to be alright then. He isn’t going to die.”

“Not if he can help it, my dear.”

She nodded curtly. “Good.” Then she burst into tears.

“Oh dear.” Lady Susan bustled forward and swept Georgiana under her arm. “I think we are all very tired and overwrought. I have agreed with Mary that you three girls should stay with me tonight while Mr Parker recovers. Then we’ll see what’s to be done.” She exchanged a wordless glance with Mary.

Charlotte looked up at the windows of the house. She could see Dr Fuchs moving around at one of them. _He’s going to be alright_. “Mary? Will you tell him I was asking after him? When he wakes.”

Mary pressed her hand. “Of course I will.” She hesitated. “Perhaps you haven’t heard, but his engagement with Mrs Campion is quite at an end.”

“That’s right,” gulped Georgiana. “I saw her carriage leave town. I’m glad of it, I didn’t like her at all.”

Charlotte couldn’t find the words. She was only able to nod at Mary before Lady Susan shepherded them away.

***

“Well now, miss.” Lady Denham inspected Clara through disapproving eyeglasses. “What exactly are we going to do with you?”

Clara cast her eyes down. “I am at your mercy, aunt.”

“Oh, very fine words. Were it not for… _that_ ,” the eyeglasses were brandished in the direction of Clara’s belly, “I could almost think you quite the innocent. Esther, what do you say?”

Esther was lying back on a chaise longue with her eyes closed. “I don’t think Clara’s motives are as pure as she claims. Are they?” She turned her head to look at her cousin. “But you did the right thing in going to Babington, so I must thank you for that.”

Lady Denham rolled her eyes. “Well you’re no help. Mr Crowe, how about you? Are you prepared to assume responsibility for my niece?”

Mr Crowe was overtaken by a coughing fit. “My dear Lady Denham, I can barely assume responsibility for myself, let alone a lady in the family way. No, no, Miss Brereton has kindly furnished me with the address of her pawn broker and I’ll be making my way to London in the morning.”

“Well you can’t stay here, child. The gossip alone would ruin us all.”

Esther sat up. “Aunt, may I make a suggestion.”

“Oh finally. What have you got to say?”

“If Clara does not object, we will procure a house for her.”

Clara’s eyes lit up. “I am exceedingly fond of the Sussex countryside.”

“In quite another part of the country,” Esther continued as though she hadn’t spoken. “Where we are not known. She can wear a ring and say she is a widow.”

Clara smirked. “Such respectability. And what would I live on?”

“We shall furnish you with a small stipend. Enough to take care of yourself and your baby.”

“Well miss,” said Lady Denham. “What do you say? Are you prepared for a quiet life away from all of us?”

Clara stroked her belly. “I am, aunt. I would do anything in the world to protect my child.” She glanced sideways at Esther. “You understand that, don’t you cousin.”

Esther flushed. “I beg your pardon.”

Clara smiled slyly. “I knew the second I saw you.”

Lady Denham frowned. “Knew what?”

Before Esther could answer, the door was flung open. Babington stood on the threshold, pale and breathless. Esther got up swiftly. “You’re hurt!”

“No…no.” He looked down at the blood staining his clothes. “It isn’t mine.”

“Not yours? Babington…”

“I must tell you some shocking news. Sidney has been shot by Edward Denham. He was aiming at me but Sidney pushed me out of the way.”

Esther gave a sharp gasp. “ _Shot_? But Edward was supposed to have been put on board a ship.”

“He must have escaped.”

Crowe stood up. “Good God, is Sidney alright?”

“He was still alive when they took him down to Tom’s house. I don’t know any more than that.” He dropped on to a sofa and covered his eyes. Esther sat beside him her arms around him and her face buried in his neck.

Lady Denham stalked over to the bell pull and almost wrenched it off. “I’m not having this. Blackmail and kidnap and now attempted murder. Of _my_ nephew-in-law.” A footman entered and waited as she scribbled a note. “Take this to the magistrate’s office at once. If Edward Denham is found, I want him on a convict ship to Botany Bay within the week, scandal or no scandal.”

***

Evening fell, and Mary quietly stole into Sidney’s room. Tom was leaning against the window, chin pressed against his arm. He didn’t look round. “I’ve seen Arthur and Diana. They wanted to stay but I didn’t think it would be good for us, or them. Diana is sending over some sort of tincture. Something about reducing inflammation?”

He turned and met Mary’s eyes for a moment before bursting into quiet laughter.

“The children are finally asleep.”

“Good. Mary, it’s all been such a shock. Did you know that Eliza instigated Charlotte’s abduction?”

Mary’s mouth fell open. “How…how _could_ she?”

“Very true my dear, although the better question is why. I confess I’m entirely bewildered. I don’t know what we’re going to do. The money, our house, it’s all tied up…”

Mary closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “Don’t you think, my dear, that it’s time you solved these questions for yourself?”

Tom’s cheeks flushed a dull red and his head dropped. Then there was a movement from the bed. Sidney was coughing and pushing at his pillows, his skin sheened with sweat. Mary crossed swiftly to him and felt his head. She swallowed. “There now, Sidney. Lie still a moment and I’m going to fetch you something to drink.” Then she pulled Tom from the room. “It’s an infection. He’s burning with fever. We must send for the doctor immediately.”

***

Dr Fuchs was sympathetic but grim. Infection had set in, there could be no doubt. Fresh poultices should be applied to the wound, and cloths soaked in water applied to Herr Parker’s forehead and arms. “Beyond that, madam, we can only wait and pray his fever breaks by morning.”

Tom sat by the bed, clutching Sidney’s hand in his. It was hot and damp and he could feel Sidney’s fingers convulsing and twitching. Sidney himself was tossing restlessly from side to side, shivering into the bedclothes one minute and then pushing them off the next. Tom got up to pull them back. “You must keep yourself covered. It won’t do to recover and then catch a cold, eh?” He kept his voice light and cheerful, but in truth it felt as though he had gone back ten years, and a younger Sidney was huddled in bed, fighting as the alcohol and misery left his body.

Sidney turned to look at him, eyes wide and unseeing. He muttered something unintelligible.

“Brother, what is it?”

“Don’t know.”

“Well, don’t worry about that. You only have to think of getting better.”

“Don’t know where she is. Where is she?”

Tom exchanged glances with Mary. “Well…she isn’t here, Sidney. You terminated your engagement, don’t you remember?”

“Don’t know where she is,” Sidney repeated. He rolled over and clutched Tom’s shirt. “Why doesn’t she come?”

Tom felt like crying. He patted his hand. “There now. I’ll fetch her for you, don’t worry.”

Sidney’s hand fell back listlessly, and he hunched back down in the sheets. Tom tiptoed over to Mary. “What are we going to do? Eliza left Sanditon this afternoon. Should I try and go after her, do you think?”

He was startled to see a look of pure anger on Mary’s face. She took his arm and spoke low and deliberately in his ear. “Tom. I want you to go to Lady Susan’s lodgings and fetch Charlotte here. At once.”

Tom stared at her. Things were starting to push at the edges of his memory, but he pushed them back. “Charlotte? Why?”

Mary exhaled. “I’m not going to argue, Tom. If you won’t go, I will.” She left the room without a glance backwards.

He followed her down the stairs. She was dragging a coat out of a closet and wrapping her head in a scarf. “Mary, stop. Of course I’ll go if you think it’s important.”

“Important? It’s the only thing in the world which matters to Sidney now.”

He took one troubled look at her and then walked out of the door.

***

Tom stumbled through the streets, desperately trying to shut down the inconvenient recollections which were starting to crowd in on him. Charlotte looking furious after exchanging words with Sidney; then seeing them standing side by side, united by an idea for a regatta. Sidney’s face at the ball in London, so open and alive, so like the younger Sidney he remembered from long ago. It had to have been Eliza that put that look on his face; it _had_ to have been. He, who prided himself on his imagination, could not have got things so wrong.

This stubborn hope faded and then died altogether as he reached Lady Susan’s lodgings. At the news Charlotte turned as white as a ghost and for a moment he thought she might faint. “Go, my dear.” said Lady Susan and Charlotte rushed past him into the night, not even stopping to put on her bonnet. He had to run to catch up with her.

“How bad is he?” She was looking straight ahead of her.

“Well, we should not be too downhearted…”

“ _How bad_?”

“Very bad.” He could feel his voice trembling. “Dr Fuchs says we can only wait and see what the morning brings us.”

She made an odd sound in her throat and didn’t speak again.

Back at Trafalgar House, Mary was hovering on the stairs. As they came through the door, she held out a hand. “Charlotte. Up here. He’s been asking for you.”

Tom trailed behind them into Sidney’s room, thick with the scent from the poultice. He watched as Charlotte let out a breath and went over to the bed. She leaned over Sidney, feeling his hands and his head. He was shivering and grey. He was worse.

She straightened up. “We need fresh cloths and some boiled water, and I think we should change his pillows.”

“I’ll see to it straight away.” Mary disappeared. She didn't look at Tom at all.

Sidney had stilled at the sound of Charlotte’s voice. He opened his eyes, bright with fever. “Charlotte?” His voice was paper thin. Then he turned his head into his pillow. “Never mind. Dreaming.”

Charlotte put a hand to his forehead. “No, I’m here. You must rest now.”

His eyes opened again, and he seemed to focus. “It is you.” He held on to her hand. “Don’t leave me.”

She smiled down at him, stroking his hair back from his face. “I won’t, if you promise to try and sleep.”

Tom was rooted to the spot. He had heard the phrase about scales falling from the eyes. Maybe it was from a church sermon at one time or the other. He had never truly understood it until this moment. Everything made sense and the explanation was so simple. He no longer wondered that Sidney should be so glum when he had been reunited with his lost love. He realised what it meant that Sidney had come to Sanditon so many times that summer and how his temperament had changed as midsummer had approached. 

The room was stifling. As the maids came in with steaming kettles, he slipped out and went in search of Mary.

She was by the fire in the drawing room, pulling a handkerchief through her hands over and over. He almost didn’t want to ask, there was such a weight of dread and sorrow in the pit of his stomach.

“Mary…I think…I have realised. About Sidney. And his…his fondness for Charlotte.” Mary didn’t say a word and he felt quite desperate. “You knew about it, didn’t you? How long have you known?”

She sniffed. “Long enough. I suspected a partiality quite early on, but it wasn’t until the day of the midsummer ball I realised that they had fallen in love.”

Tom wiped his forehead. “But they were always arguing.”

Mary turned on him, anger in her eyes. “You don’t see past the end of your nose, do you Tom? Did you never notice how they couldn’t keep their eyes off each other, even when they were at outs?”

He felt aggrieved. “I cannot help it if I take people as I find them.”

“Oh _Tom_! You didn’t want to see it, so you chose not to see it. Eliza Campion turned up with her eighty thousand pounds, and you thought what a good thing that would be for Sanditon, so you decided that Sidney must still be in love with her.”

Tom was reeling. “No…no, but Mary, you didn’t see him in London. His face, it was like the old Sidney. As if he was alive again.”

“When in London? Exactly when?”

“Well, I noticed it most at Mrs Maudsley’s ball. When he saw Eliza again.”

“And where was he when you noticed it?”

“Well, he had just finished dancing with…with…”

Mary’s face was grim. “With Charlotte?”

“Yes.” The weight of it all fell on Tom’s soul without warning and he collapsed in a chair. “Oh God, Mary, what have I done? Why didn’t he _tell_ me? I should never have let him sacrifice his happiness.”

“We all let him do it.” Mary was holding her crumpled handkerchief against her cheek. “I knew and I didn’t say a word. I was so frightened about what might happen otherwise.”

He tried to take her hand. “Please do not blame yourself my dear.”

“I don’t! I blame you. You have run our fortunes and our name into the ground trying to keep Sanditon alive, and when it all fell apart you assumed, as you always do, that Sidney would fix everything. And for what? Your imaginary castles in the air?”

“But we are so nearly there, Mary. By next summer, the streets will be teeming with London society all coming down here to sample our beaches, our sea air.”

She stood up. She was still sniffing back tears, but her back was straight, and he wilted under the force of her gaze. “No one is coming to Sanditon, Tom. We are not Brighton and you are not the Prince Regent. And I will no longer watch you play with our future, with our children’s future, to chase after an impossible dream. I cannot stand by while you ruin your family and kill yourself doing it.”

Fear twisted his insides. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m going to leave. Once I’m satisfied that Sidney will recover, I’m going to take the children to my mother’s house in Weymouth.”

He fell on his knees and clutched her skirts. “Please…please don’t leave me. You have no idea how much I rely on you…how much I _need_ you! I cannot live without you.”

She pushed him away. “You cannot live without Sanditon. I’m expendable. We all are.” Mary gave a strangled sob and hurried from the room.

Tom stared at her, aghast. He’d done it all for them. Hadn’t he? He wandered through the house and into his office. The model of Sanditon loomed at him, ghostly white in the semi-darkness. Mary was leaving and Sidney lay insensible upstairs.

He remembered suddenly, the day Charlotte left, seeing Sidney walking his horse back through the town, his head bowed and face tightly shuttered. Why, _why_ had he not said anything? _Because you relied on him too much_ , a small voice answered. All the begging, the demands made on him, the accusations of not caring enough about his dreams. When Sidney had announced his engagement, he’d been delighted, but he knew it had been for Sanditon and not nearly so much for his brother. Things had fallen so neatly into place and Tom had congratulated himself on his good fortune.

Except that Charlotte had left Sanditon in tears, and Sidney looked like living death once again.

Horror and self-loathing overwhelmed him. He shrugged on his greatcoat and wrenched open the front door. There was only one thing to be done now.

***

The small clock on the wall chimed one o’clock. Charlotte leaned back in an armchair by the bed, holding his hand. His skin was dry and papery to the touch.

She’d done all she could. She had bathed his head and wound cold cloths around his wrists to try and bring the fever down. He was lying much stiller now, only sometimes tensing his muscles as the fever continued to rage. If he stayed like this, she would have to call Mary and Tom in. She couldn’t bear it. 

She slipped out of the chair and knelt beside him, lifting her hand to her lips. “You must fight, Sidney. You can’t leave me like this, I won’t allow it.” He was motionless now, his breathing shallow. She scrubbed tears from her eyes with her sleeve and leaned her head against the coverlet.

He coughed suddenly which startled her so much she knocked the small table by his bedside. The spoon Dr Fuchs used to mix the poultice slid off and disappeared under the bed. She knelt up and looked at him carefully. Was he breathing more easily, or was she just hoping? Perhaps his skin felt a little less dry.

He was still unmoving. With a sigh, she leaned down and groped under the bed for the errant spoon. She touched metal and then paper. She drew out several closely written pages, one with a broken wax seal. It looked like a letter of some description. Not wanting to read private correspondence, she started folding the pages together but then stopped abruptly as she saw her own name inscribed at the top of one of them. _Dearest Charlotte…_

Her heart skittered in her chest. She held the page up to the light of the candle on the table. The letter was written in a bold, slanting hand. Above her name, the date was written in a corner, _10 th July 1821_. A week after she’d left Sanditon.

She collected all the pages together in shaking hands. Perhaps she ought not to read it; it looked like private thoughts that he had never meant to send her. But then she looked at him so still and so quiet, and she had to know. She drew her chair closer to the bed so she could watch over him, and then started to read.

***

At six o’clock the following morning, Lady Susan was drinking tea in her wrapper. She had woken early, full of concern for Charlotte and how she might help the other girls as well. Georgiana was unhappy and suffering from a lack of occupation, and Alison was clearly in the throes of a first love which was making her miserable as well. What a tangle it all was, but how she loved unravelling tangles. Not only that, but Charlotte had disclosed the full facts regarding her abduction, and Susan had already put certain plans in motion which would mean Mrs Campion would find herself _persona non grata_ in every drawing room in London. 

It was still dark outside. Susan went to the window to draw the curtain a little more securely. Then she noticed a figure outside, pacing up and down outside her door. She narrowed her eyes. If she was not much mistaken it looked very much like Tom Parker. He had no hat and his hair was standing up as though he’d been in a high wind. She sighed and rang the bell. As her sleepy maid arrived, she motioned towards the window. “Mr Tom Parker is presently outside our door. Could you show him inside and make him some tea? And ask my dresser to attend me at once.”

***

Light straggled through a chink in the curtains and touched Charlotte’s face. As her eyes fluttered open, she became aware that her cheek was against something soft. 

“Finally. I thought you were going to sleep for hours.”

She opened her eyes. Her head was lying on one of Sidney’s pillows. From the other he gazed at her, the life back in his eyes. Relief flooded through her. “Oh you look so much better.”

He stretched out his good arm and touched her cheek. “Were you here all night?” His voice was still weak.

She sat up, wincing at the pain in her back. “Yes. Tom fetched me about eleven o’clock and I’ve been here ever since.”

“My pretty nurse.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes, making him chuckle. “You almost died, it’s hardly a laughing matter.”

“I don’t remember very much beyond Dr Fuchs butchering me with his instruments. Just as well I daresay.” He tried to sit up but slumped down again. “Dash it, I’m as weak as an infant.”

“Stop trying to move. I’ll find Tom and ask him to lift you.”

He gave her a provocative little smile from the depths of his pillow. “You could try yourself?”

Charlotte lifted her chin, trying not to laugh. “I’m sure I don’t know what’s got into you this morning, and no I won’t. You’re head and shoulders above me, I’ll likely do myself an injury.”

His lips quirked and he opened his mouth to reply. Then his gaze fell on the collection of paper which lay forgotten on the coverlet. He frowned. “What’s that?”

She blushed fiery red and whisked them away. “It’s a letter. I found it scattered under the bed. I didn’t mean to read it, but I saw my name…I think Jack must have found it when he was looking in your bag for the marzipan.”

Comprehension dawned and his cheeks reddened. “It’s the letter I wrote to you, isn’t it? From the summer.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” She started pulling the pages together and folding them back up

“It’s alright.” He looked at her and his eyes were soft. “It was addressed to you, and it’s yours. I…you see, a week after you left Sanditon I was in a bad way. I decided I couldn't let myself drown again, so I wrote to you…all the things I wished I’d said when I'd had the chance. I've been carrying it with my in my travelling bag…a sort of talisman I suppose.”

Charlotte smoothed over the pages feeling suddenly shy. The sentiments expressed within them were so honest and open, and she didn’t know how to put her own feelings into words. He seemed to understand. “We don’t have to speak about these things now.”

She sent him a grateful look. “I should go and find Tom and Mary. Everyone’s been so worried.”

***

Tom crept back into the house at eight o’clock, his heart hammering. Everything was quiet. He had laid everything before Lady Susan, castigating himself for his blindness and stubbornness. She had not bothered to correct him. She was sympathetic and forthright; she might be willing to help but she would require properly written financial plans before she invested a penny. He’d agreed with alacrity, but in his head he knew that he would not have the heart to pursue anything at all if Sidney was gone.

A door shut at the top of the stairs and Mary appeared. Although she still looked grave at the sight of him, it couldn’t disguise the relief and happiness on her face. He leapt forward. “Mary! How is he?”

She actually smiled at him. “He’s better. So much better.” His valet is helping him change and we’ve summoned Dr Fuchs.”

Tom suddenly couldn’t stand up. He sank onto the stairs and put his head in his hands. “Thank God. Oh thank God.” He felt tears wet on his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ve behaved terribly to all of you.” Then Mary settled herself beside him and he buried his head in her lap and cried.

***

Two days later, Alison wandered down to the dunes. Mr Stringer was already waiting, looking out at the grey expanse of the sea. He looked up as she approached. “I got your note.”

“Yes.” Her heart was beating and she screwed up her courage. “I wanted to apologise for being angry with you. It wasn’t fair.”

He smiled and looked back at the sea. “There’s nothing to apologise for.”

She took a deep breath. “And I wanted to finish our conversation. Before we were interrupted, you said that things felt different. Please, I want to know what you were going to say.”

He stared at her, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “I’ve never met a soul like you before Alison.

She blushed. “What do you mean?”

“You’re brave. Brave enough to speak your feelings and ask for the things you want. Braver than me I reckon.”

She came forward and took his hands. “Be brave now.”

He looked down at their joined hands. “I thought I knew what it was to love, but since I met you I think I was mistaken. Being infatuated with a person…all the fire feeding it is your own. Real love though, seems to me as if it’s a fire created between two people to warm each other.” He reddened. “I sound like a fool. If any of my men caught me talking like this, I’d never hear the end of it.” 

“But I like it.” Then she stood on her tiptoes and planted a chaste kiss on his lips. He gazed at her for a moment and then swept her into his arms.

***

Just as Alison was taking her future in both hands, Charlotte came to visit Sidney at Trafalgar House. She found him in the garden, reclined in an armchair and his face turned up to the sun. From the haphazard way his blanket was tucked around him, it looked like the children had been playing nursemaid.

He opened his eyes and looked straight at her. “Charlotte.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He smiled. “I wasn’t asleep. Just pretending for the little ones. They do enjoy doctoring.” He untangled himself from the blanket and stood up on legs that were only a little unsteady.

She reached out and took his arm. “You should be resting.”

“I’m alright. Really. I can’t sit tucked up like an elderly invalid all day. Shall we walk a little?”

They wandered down to the embankment in a comfortable silence, listening to the ducks protesting on the water, and the crunch of leaves under their feet. 

“Charlotte?” He looked at her. His face was soft, but there was a touch of pain. “You’re still leaving Sanditon, aren’t you?”

She looked up at him, the face which had become so dear to her. “Yes. For now, at least.” He opened his mouth, perhaps to protest and she put her hand out to him. “I don’t mean for good. I don’t mean that at all.”

“Then stay.”

She shook her head. “You need to recover your strength. And I need some time. With everything that’s happened, I feel so odd and muddled, and I’m having the _most_ peculiar dreams. Most of all, I miss my family. I need to go home and just…just _be_ for a little while. Do you understand?”

He was holding her hand, stroking his thumb over hers. “I do. I’ll miss you very much, but I do understand.”

They walked on beside the riverbank. “Are you going to stay here?”

He looked around. “Yes, I think I will. Tom tells me the sea air is beneficial for gunshot wounds so…” He grinned at her sudden gurgle of laughter. “He says that your Lady Susan is prepared to help him with Sanditon if he can provide her with sensible plans and someone to manage them for him.”

“She told me so. I suppose that means you. Wouldn’t you miss London?”

“I don’t think I would. I never really enjoyed myself when I was there. I think this could be a new start for all of us.”

Later, they returned to the house. He stopped her as she was crossing the threshold into the hall. “When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

He nodded. “I’ll come and see you off if you don’t object?”

She smiled. “Of course not.” Something occurred to her. “Perhaps…perhaps you would write to me when I’m home?”

He took her hand and kissed it. “It would be my pleasure.”


	11. Love and Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wherein I wrapped up the plot in the last chapter so I could spend this one on Sidlotte :-)
> 
> This is the final chapter, with a short epilogue to follow in a couple of days. It's over 1000 words longer than usual - apologies for that, there was a lot I wanted to cover!
> 
> Thank you all so much for your encouraging comments, it's been a long while since I wrote this much, and I’ve enjoyed it hugely xxx

_Four weeks later_

“Sidney, I’ve had confirmation from Lady Susan that the work can start on a new set of houses.”

“Mmmm.” Sidney was deep in concentration, a pen in his hand and the letter he was responding to propped up against the ink stand. 

There was a long silence. Tom cleared his throat. “She has also given permission for a selection of monkeys to be let loose in the town. We think they’ll be popular.”

“Excellent idea.” Sidney had picked up the letter from the stand and was smiling to himself as he read it through. Then he blinked and looked up. “What?”

Tom beamed at him. “In another world, eh? I’m glad of it. When I think of what I put you through…”

Sidney put the letter down with a sigh. “No more apologies, I beg of you. The past is done, and we’re probably both a little better for it.”

“True, true.” Tom picked at a bit of sealing wax on the desk. “How is Charlotte?”

Sidney shot him a glance and resumed writing. “She’s well. Happy that Georgiana is with her.”

“Good, that’s good.” Tom coughed. “Might we…might we be seeing her soon?”

“Tom!”

“I know, I know. I just want you to be happy, Sidney.”

Sidney gave a wry smile and returned to Charlotte’s letter. He had discovered to his joy that her style of letter writing was just like her - warm, impetuous and funny. There were pelting tales of Willingden life which made him laugh, and small details about herself which he treasured up inside him. Just recently they had begun discussing books. _I have recently begun Frankenstein which I found hidden in a corner of my father’s library. I can only assume he thought it unsuitable and so I resolved to read it immediately._

Sidney’s shoulders shook. He looked over at Tom who was on his knees sorting through a large box of papers. “Tom, where might I procure a copy of _Frankenstein_?”

Tom sat back, flushed in the face. “Who’s he?”

“How do you not…?” Before Sidney could finish, Mary was at the door, out of breath and eyes wide.

“I just saw Lord Babington in the street. They’ve found him.”

***

November had arrived in Willingden, and with it brought gusts of chill winds that blew the remaining leaves from the trees and battered against the fences. Two slight figures, wrapped in cloaks, hurried down the lane towards the Heywoods’ house, heads bowed against the elements. 

Georgiana stopped and pushed her hood back. “A plague take the English weather, Charlotte. Bad food I can and have endured, but this is too much.”

Charlotte laughed, teeth chattering. “It blows away the cobwebs, my mother says.”

“And yet she stayed indoors.” Georgiana had to shout to make herself heard but there was a smile on her face. She hadn’t felt this happy in years. She had been an only child, and then had been nobody’s child, so it had been a delight to spend almost a month in the company of a noisy, cheerful family who did not stare and wonder at her, nor lecture, nor fuss. Added to that was the promised sojourn in London where Lady Susan had promised to sponsor her come out. She had been beyond surprised when Sidney had acquiesced to the idea with perfect amiability. But then, maybe him dying a little bit had softened his character. 

“When are you for London?” asked Charlotte as though she had read her mind. The wind had dropped leaving their eyes bright and watery.

“Next week. I would have gone tomorrow if I could, but I did promise Sidney I would come back to Sanditon for a few days to arrange my affairs. He has hired me my very own man of business…only think of that!”

Charlotte raised a brow. “Perhaps he is not so very bad after all?”

“As if your opinion was impartial.” Georgiana looked at her slyly, observing the deep blush which bloomed on her cheeks. “Has a letter arrived lately?”

“That is none of your business,” replied Charlotte with great dignity, spoiling the effect a moment later by adding, “I only sent mine two days ago, he wouldn’t have time to write yet.”

Georgiana only half-smiled. The thought of letters brought back the inevitable pain, although it was somehow less raw these days. “Do you think I should tell Sidney about Otis’ letters?”

“Do you want him to know?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. I thought maybe he would change his mind about my going to London, but perhaps it would be better to be honest.”

“You’ll have a clear conscience. And I’m sure he won’t stop you.”

“Well, if he does, you will have to intervene on my behalf. He’ll do anything you tell him to….no, no don’t!” She collapsed into giggles as Charlotte shied a handful of leaves at her. Then another gust of wind sent them skittering down the lane towards the Heywoods' farm.

As they trailed leaves into the house, Mr Heywood appeared at the door of his study. “A word please, Charlotte.”

She exchanged a glance with Georgiana and then followed her father. Once the door was shut, he held a letter aloft. “From Trafalgar House, Sanditon.” He turned the letter over to consult the envelope. “Again.”

Her heart skipped and she reached for it. He held it away for a moment. “Charlotte, is there anything you want to tell me?”

She hesitated. “I…no papa. Not yet. But I promise there is nothing improper. Please?”

He looked at her narrowly before sighing and handed her the letter. “I’m putting my trust in you, Charlotte. And I may I hope that Mr Sidney Parker will find his way to my study one of these days?”

As soon as she could, Charlotte flew up the stairs and into the attic. It had been her place of refuge in the summer when she’d needed to be alone. Now she spent many happy hours there reading and re-reading Sidney’s letters and composing her responses. He was a excellent letter writer, at turns thoughtful and irreverent. He kept her up to date with Sanditon news, but more than that, they had begun discussing little things, the small day-to-day details which might seem uninteresting to any but two persons eager to know every part of each other. 

Charlotte pulled a blanket around herself and settled herself in an old brocade chair. Breaking open the seal of his letter, she broke into a laugh. There was a small sketch in the top right-hand corner, depicting a palace which might have come straight out of the pages of the _Arabian Nights_. A little caption written in cramped letters proclaimed, _Tom’s latest idea_. 

She read down the page slowly, wanting to enjoy every word. _Yesterday evening we went to Sanditon House for dinner, an event which went considerably better than the ill-fated pineapple lunch, although nobody scolded me over the soup and I rather missed that. We also attended an assembly the next town over, so Tom could spy on the competition as much as he might deny it. I think you would have enjoyed it and hope that one day you will put on your blue dancing shoes again and stand up with me for a set or two. Babs and Esther send their best and gave me leave to tell you that they are anticipating a happy event in June_. At this, Charlotte let out a happy ‘oh!’. _I visit Jack weekly and I know you will be delighted at his progress when you see him next. He’s round of face and limb, and altogether a different little chap from the one we rescued all those weeks ago._

Charlotte bit her lip. _Blue dancing shoes._ She had no idea he’d noticed. Although the wind was creaking through the crevices of the attic, she felt as if she were bathed in sunshine. She was entirely sure of her feelings now; any lingering worries had been put to bed by their correspondence. He was her entire world; but more than that; she felt that he was also her friend and the thought made her smile. And still…this was such a blissful little period; the joy of writing things to him that she knew would make him laugh, the anticipation of a letter arriving and counting the minutes until she could be alone to open it. Somehow, she wasn’t quite ready to pierce this bubble and take the next step along the road.

At the end, after _yours ever, Sidney_ , there was another little note, cramped into the remaining space. _Edward Denham has been run to ground, trying to board a boat in Folkestone. Been brought back to Sussex & is in prison facing trial. Lady D has washed hands of him, will write more when I know. S._

She couldn’t wait; she pulled her small writing desk towards her and started scribbling a response. How happy she was to hear of the Babingtons’ news, and that Jack was making such good progress. How she hoped that Tom had been discreet at the assembly, and that her shoes were tucked under her bed awaiting the next ball. What shocking news of Edward Denham and would he…?

“There you are!”

Charlotte jumped and turned the page face down. At the door, Alison rolled her eyes. “I know you’re writing to Sidney Parker. It’s lunchtime. Mamma’s been calling you for an age.”

Charlotte cast a regretful glance at the desk. “Five minutes?”

“I’ve been hiding your whereabouts for ten minutes already. If you like spending time with his letters so much, I really don’t know why you don’t invite him to share your attic in person.”

Charlotte smothered a laugh. “Oh, be quiet. It wasn’t so long ago that you declared you would never fall in love and now look at you.”

Alison sniffed. “I didn’t fall in love, I fell in love with James. The two things are completely different.”

“And you don’t mind waiting until he finishes his apprenticeship?”

“I’d wait a lifetime if I could.”

They looked at each other. Charlotte got up and pulled her into a fierce hug. “I am so happy for you.”

Alison kissed her cheek soundly. “And I want to be happy for you as well. Ask him to come. It’s time, isn’t it?”

As they went downstairs, Charlotte passed the drawing room. The door was slightly ajar and she could see her parents standing close together. She didn’t mean to stare, but it was so unusual to see them in that way. She could hear her mother laughing softly and her father was tweaking one of her ringlets. “I won’t have it,” he was saying. “You look just the way you did when I first saw you. A white dress and a pink ribbon around your wrist. I will never forget it.”

Something about his words made Charlotte’s heart stop. _Pink ribbon…blue dancing shoes_. She realised that she’d been waiting for some sort of sign, some reassurance that she could trust her feelings, and trust Sidney with her heart. She felt a lump rise in her throat. “Mamma?”

Mrs Heywood appeared instantly. “Charlotte? What is it? You look feverish, my love.”

“Oh no. I’m perfectly well. That is, I think I have a headache coming on. Will you excuse me?” Without waiting for a response, Charlotte ran back up the stairs.

Mrs Heywood looked after her daughter in the liveliest astonishment. “What in the world has got into her.”

Alison was leaning in the doorway, a cup of tea in her hands. “Papa, I think you should prepare yourself for a visitor within a fortnight.” She looked up the stairs and took a sip. “Possibly less.”

***

Up in the attic Charlotte pulled out a box full of the correspondence she’d received from Sidney; a small mountain of paper, crossed and re-crossed in his slanting hand. Tucked in a corner was the letter she had found underneath his bed and which she hadn’t been able to bring herself to read again. They hadn’t spoken about it, either in person or in writing; somehow it was too overwhelming to try. 

Now she pulled it loose and unfolded the crumpled pages. She ran her fingers over his words. _I missed you before you went away. I missed you when I saw your carriage leave, and a week later, I miss you even more. My mind returns every day to the first moment I saw you, and I want to return to that point and shake myself for not recognising there and then what a wonderful woman you were and how dear you would become to me._

Charlotte’s own heart was beating hard. She too thought back to that first day on the cliffs and what a strange and wondrous thing it was that the dour, indifferent man she’d met that day was the same man who wrote to her with such feeling.

_It wasn’t so very long after I had met you that I began longing for a different life, one I had long decided was not for me. I will be open and confess that I have thought often of a family, our family. One that I know cannot be and yet I still dream about it._

_I may never see you again; perhaps it will be well if our paths do not cross again. I cannot tell what the future holds, but in all the many paths I will always wish and hope for a long and happy life for you._

Charlotte spent a long while after that staring out of the attic window as the sun sank lower in the sky. Below she could see her brother Jem loading up the cart to drive into the village. Suddenly she knew Alison was right; it was time. Opening the dormer window, she shouted down. “Jem! _Jem!_ Can you wait a little? I need you to take a letter for me.” 

At his answering shout, she picked up the page she’d written to Sidney, and with a determined breath, added a few more lines. _I read your letter again today, the first one you ever wrote to me. I’m just now sitting in the attic at Willingden, where I’ve made myself a little sitting room where I can write and think and look out across the fields. Even though it’s November, the country is still very beautiful and wild. I wish you could see it. I would so like to show it to you._

_Your Charlotte._

She felt bold and she felt shy all at once. He would know what she meant. She was completely sure of it.

She folded and sealed the letter and then scrambled back down the stairs.

***

Four days later, Georgiana sat in the office at Trafalgar House as Sidney carefully went through her papers with her. She felt an odd sort of affection for him; he seemed so determined to make sure that she understood every deed. “You don’t know what kind of people you may meet in London, Georgiana. I’m not saying that to discourage you, but if you understand your own business matters, I think it will stand you in very good stead.”

She nodded. “I promise I’ll be careful. And thank you. I wasn’t sure you would let me go to London after everything that’s happened.”

He looked troubled. “It was as much my fault as anyone else’s. If I had been more approachable, more willing as a guardian, perhaps you might have felt you could have talked to me. I’m sorry.”

“Well, I’m sorry too then. I was far too inclined to kick against you. I think if you had ordered me to marry Otis, I would have likely refused him just to be contrary.”

He laughed. “Would you, now? Why didn’t I think of that?”

She looked down. “I…I should tell you that Otis has been writing to me since I last saw him. I never responded to him, please believe me. But I didn’t stop him either. I don’t know…I _didn’t_ know what I wanted to do. Perhaps it was comforting. Please don’t be angry.”

“I’m not. Did you tell anyone?”

“Not for ages, until last month when I disclosed the whole to Lady Susan. She asked me if I trusted him. And if I didn’t, I should end the connection once and for all.”

“And what did you do?”

Georgiana gave him a wobbly smile and only felt a little sad. “I ended the connection.”

He stretched his hand across the table and gripped hers briefly. “I’m sorry. I’m rather relieved, but I am sorry. I know you loved him very much.”

“I did, and I got it so very wrong. I’m not sure I trust my judgement anymore.”

“You will one day.”

“But if I do fall in love again, how would I possibly know if the gentleman was trustworthy? Or if he was just being pleasant to me for my money?”

Sidney considered. “Well, when the day comes when you fall in love again, perhaps you may think about whether you actually like him too.”

“Capital advice,” said Tom wandering in. “I like Mary very much. Sidney, my apologies, I put this in my coat pocket three days ago and only just found it again. I think it’s from Charlotte.”

He put a letter into Sidney’s hand. 

“You’ve had this for three days?” Sidney broke the seal impatiently and scanned the contents. He froze.

Georgiana frowned. “What’s the matter.”

Sidney looked up, an odd look in his eyes. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Tom, I need my horse straight away. I’m going to Willingden.”

“When?”

“Now of course!”

He strode out of the room, Tom following behind. “Not on your horse you won’t. You’ll take the carriage tomorrow morning. It’s freezing outside, it’s nearly dark and you’re still recovering from that shoulder. Sidney! Sidney, you should get married in Sanditon. A winter wedding at our little church. Imagine how pretty. Sidney!”

***

Almost five days since she’d sent the letter. Their correspondence had been like clockwork, letters flying between them every few days. Now there was only silence and Charlotte’s confidence was ebbing away. She was in a sombre mood as she wandered home from the village. Had she been too forward? Was he even now trying to think of a way to let her down gently? Her heart scoffed at the idea, but her head would keep on prodding at her. Maybe he hadn’t understood. Maybe he had fallen ill again. Surely someone would let her know if that was the case.

Alison met her at the gate and thrust a basket into her hands. “Charlotte, can you go to the barn and collect the eggs?”

Charlotte frowned. “It’s your turn. I did it yesterday, and the day before that.”

“Well I’ve decided it should be you again. _Please_ Charlotte? Please, please, please?”

Charlotte heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Very well. But I’m not doing it again this week.”

“I shan’t object in the slightest.” Alison winked at her and disappeared inside the house.

Charlotte marched over to the barn, pulling up the collar of her coat. She whisked herself inside and shut the door quickly against the bitter wind.

“Charlotte.”

She whipped round. Sidney was standing among the sweet-scented hay bales in a many-caped greatcoat which made him look extremely tall and broad. 

“Oh.” Her legs shook and she leaned against the door. 

His eyes were full of emotion. “I got your letter. I wanted to saddle up the moment I read it.” He took a step towards her and then stopped. “It…it was what you meant, wasn’t it?”

He looked so uncertain all of a sudden that her heart melted. Casting the basket aside, she flew towards him; he came to meet her. As she flung her arms around his neck, he gathered her up in a tight embrace and lifted her right off her feet.

They stayed like that, swaying together in the dim light of the barn. Her face was buried in his neck, and she could feel the rough grain of his chin grazing her collarbone. “Darling Charlotte,” he whispered against her skin.

“I thought you weren’t going to come,” she murmured, her voice cracking. “I thought I’d made a mistake.”

He gently set her down and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “No, how could you think so? Tom, who I promise I will be throwing into the river as soon as I return to Sanditon, forgot to give me the letter.”

She gave a choking little laugh. She could feel his hands threading through her hair and she pulled on his lapels to bring him closer. “I missed you so much, Sidney.”

He looked down at her with tender eyes. “It cannot have been as much as I missed you.” Then he closed the space between them and kissed her. 

Charlotte lost herself completely. There was only the sensation of his mouth caressing hers, the intense feeling of joy and longing and a strange new feeling coursing up inside of her which made her warm all over. She slid her arms up around his neck again, pressing closer to him. She didn’t want him to stop.

“Charlotte…I must…ask you…” He was still capturing her lips in a series of butterfly-light kisses. He pulled back a little, and looked into her eyes, his hands either side of her face. “My dearest love. Will you marry me?”

She smiled up at him, feeling almost dizzy with emotion. “Yes. Yes I will.”

After a period of delightful kisses and incoherent murmurs, they finally settled down on a hay bale, Charlotte sitting with her head on his shoulder while he wrapped his greatcoat around them both.

“You know, I won’t say that I’ve enjoyed our separation,” he remarked, kissing her forehead. “But I think our correspondence has been one of the greatest joys of my life.”

“And mine. I cannot tell you how impatient I have been for the post to arrive every day.”

He laughed. “It’s become something of a running joke between Tom and Mary. They think I don’t know of course.”

“But when did you arrive?”

“About half an hour ago. I put my bag up at the Bell just over the hill and came on by foot. Then I met your sister. She pushed me in here and told me to wait.” He grinned. “I must admit, I was a little relieved when you appeared; I did wonder if she meant to keep me in here overnight.”

Charlotte laughed. “She may have been angry with you when I came home in the summer, but I think falling in love herself has changed her perspective a little.”

“She had every right to be, as did you. I can never forgive myself for what I put you through.”

“And I will never forgive you if you let it eat away at you for the rest of your life. I told you once that I wouldn’t spend my life with regrets, and I don’t wish that for you either. It’s all in the past now, and I’d much rather look forward.”

He smiled and tightened his arm that was around her waist. “Wise Charlotte.” Then he frowned. “Did you tell your parents about what happened?”

“About you, or about Lord Farrow?”

“Both if you like.”

She shook her head. “I only ever told Alison about you. I couldn’t bear the idea of papa…well I decided against it. And if I’d mentioned Lord Farrow trying to abduct me I think they would have forbade me from going near Sanditon ever again. Papa did warn me about these seaside towns you know.”

She said this with a twinkle, and it made him laugh, but there was still a shade of perturbation on his face. “I think I will have to confess the whole to your father. It wouldn’t do to conceal it from him, and I’d rather begin honestly.”

“But not about Lord Farrow. Susan wrote that he had fled to France, but I don’t think even that would appease papa.”

“No, I promise I won’t mention that unless you want me to.”

“Thank you.” She pressed several kisses onto his cheek and temple, and he turned his head to meet her lips. After another delicious silence, he leaned his head against hers.

“My beautiful Charlotte. I love you so much.”

She looked up at him and what she saw in his eyes made her pulse quicken. “I love you with all my heart.”

They kissed again and it was different. It was still entirely loving but was now infused with an urgency she hadn’t felt before. His hand was stroking up the side of her waist; her fingers were caressing the hair at the nape of his neck.

At this inopportune moment the barn door opened, and Alison stepped through backwards with a hand over her eyes. “Is it safe?”

Charlotte leapt up, smoothing her dress down. “Alison! It’s perfectly alright.” She tried desperately to get her breathing under control. Sidney stood up next to her, an unholy gleam of amusement in his eyes. 

Alison looked round cautiously. “Oh, thank goodness. I was obliged to tell mamma that you were in the barn with Mr Parker. Well, not obliged, exactly, but I told her anyway.”

“Alison!”

“You can’t imagine they were surprised, surely?”

“Well I…” Charlotte turned to see Sidney’s shoulders shaking. “What is so amusing, pray?”

“My love, in my travels around Sanditon, I have been asked about my nuptials with you by Lady Denham, the Heatons and the landlord of the Denham Arms to name but four people. It appears that we were not as discreet as we thought.”

Alison rolled her eyes. “You don’t say. Come along now, everyone wants to meet you.”

***

Much, much later, Sidney returned to his room at the Bell after a promise to attend the farmhouse for breakfast in the morning, and a protracted and deeply enjoyable farewell with his beloved Charlotte. He lay down on the bed, full of such joy he almost felt lightheaded. It seemed incredible to him that there had ever existed a time when he didn’t know Charlotte. Briefly his thoughts turned to Eliza and how destroyed he had been by her - so destroyed that he’d spent ten years in a self-constructed wilderness. But at the end of that wilderness was Charlotte, and if he had not been so affected, he might never have met her. 

He had disclosed the whole affair to Mr Heywood. For an awful moment he thought that his suit might be refused. But after a long moment staring into the fire, Mr Heywood nodded. “It isn’t ideal, not by a long shot. But I think you’re a decent man, and I can tell she loves you. I couldn’t bear to see her as unhappy as she was when she came home this summer.”

Sidney wasn’t sure that he believed in God, but he did know that he had been granted a second chance and he wouldn’t waste a second of it.

He couldn’t sleep. Rolling out of bed, he went to the desk and started a letter to Babington.

***

The joy of seeing Charlotte blushing shyly at him as he walked into the Heywoods’ kitchen the next morning was something Sidney never forgot. He could barely keep his eyes off her, and he was acutely grateful to Alison for suggesting that all three of them leave the chaos indoors and explore the countryside.

They walked in silence up the narrow lanes towards the crest of a large hill. Halfway up, there was a signpost and a path leading in another direction. Alison looked at them and winked. “One hour.” Then she was gone.

Sidney broke into laughter. “You two should consider espionage. Did you plan that?”

“In a manner of speaking. I did the same for her and James Stringer when he came to visit. They are to be married you know.”

“Yes, he told me himself. He’s a good man. I did offer to help with his apprenticeship but he wouldn’t have any of it. He wants to do it all himself.”

“I know, Lady Susan tried as well. Alison is so proud of him.”

They reached the top of the hill. Charlotte stopped, her cheeks bright from the wind. “This is where Tom and Mary’s carriage overturned. They were going far too fast. It was lucky in all sorts of ways that we spotted them.”

It was a moment before he caught her meaning. “My God. You mean I owe my present happiness to Tom’s insanity.”

She twinkled at him. “You do.”

“Please never mention it to him, he’ll be unbearable.”

“I won’t if you kiss me.” 

He obliged with alacrity and was somewhat grateful that the cold weather meant they were wrapped in heavy coats otherwise things might have progressed further than was entirely proper. Only the sight of a farm wagon in the distance brought them back to their senses.

Sidney tried to gather himself. “Beautiful country around here.”

“Yes.” Charlotte sounded breathless.

“We haven’t had a chance to speak about our wedding. Should you like to be married from Willingden?”

“I would. Do you mind? It won’t be a grand affair like…”

He kissed her. “No, none of that. A country wedding sounds ideal, it will be ours and it will be perfect.”

***

In a fashionable hotel in the centre of Paris, a blonde lady perused an English newspaper, boredom evident in her sharp eyes. London had become decidedly unpleasant in recent weeks; she knew that sly creature Lady Susan had something to do with the invitations drying up. It had been an especially nasty shock when several venerable dowagers had actually given her the cut direct; she knew those jealous cats had just been waiting for an excuse to blackball her.

She sipped on a cup of chocolate. A fly was tiptoeing across the page; she flicked it off with an impatient finger and then her eyes widened. The notice was there in black and white. _Mr Sidney Parker of Sanditon announces his engagement to Miss Charlotte Heywood of Willingden, daughter of Mr and Mrs William Heywood._

There was a horrid taste in her mouth. The chocolate was burned no doubt. She set down her cup on top of the offending proclamation and walked away.

***

_January_

“Well my dear, will this veil do?”

“Susan, it’s beautiful. Thank you!”

Lady Susan put her hands out as Charlotte went to embrace her. “Now, now my dear, don’t crumple yourself.”

Charlotte laughed and turned back to the mirror. Mrs Heywood carefully attached the veil, decorated with Brussels lace, to Charlotte’s new bonnet. Georgiana and Alison, lolling on the bed, gave an excited round of applause.

Lady Susan stood back and nodded in approval. “Quite lovely my dear. Mrs Heywood, that dress is a miracle, I do not know how you managed to produce such a beautiful thing in such a short space of time.”

It was a miracle, thought Charlotte, who had never been proficient with her needle. It was simple and elegant with tiny white buttons at the wrists and small rosebuds clustered around the neckline. She slipped an arm around her mother and kissed her cheek. “Thank you.” Mrs Heywood went quite pink and busied herself with arranging the drape of Charlotte’s gown.

Esther got up from her chair, her pregnancy just now becoming visible under her green velvet gown. She produced a small white package from her reticule and handed it to Charlotte. “I was charged to give you this, from your husband to be.”

Inside the box on a white cushion was a simple sapphire pendant and a note in Sidney’s hand, _For my Charlotte, who likes blue_. Charlotte blinked away tears. “It’s perfect. Mamma, would you?”

Mrs Heywood fastened the pendant around her neck and looked with her daughter into the mirror. “The first bride in the family. Are you ready?”

“Yes, let’s go.”

***

Sidney stood at the front of Willingden church, pacing in front of the amused vicar. “Hang it Babs, I’m as nervous as a schoolboy. Did you feel like this?”

“I couldn’t eat a scrap of breakfast, don’t you remember? All will be well. Once you see her, you’ll forget about everything else.”

Sidney ran his hands through his hair. “It’s been such a long road to get here. Perhaps I just can’t believe it’s all real and Charlotte is about to become my wife. My _wife_ , Babs.”

Babington grinned. “I guarantee you won’t tire of saying the word either. And I know it feels like a long road, but it’s been barely six months since you first met her.”

Sidney stared at him. “I suppose it has been. It feels like I’ve known her for a lifetime.”

Babington clapped him on the back as the organ started up. “You’ve got an entire lifetime ahead of you.”

Sidney turned to watch as Charlotte walked down the aisle on her father’s arm, with Georgiana and Alison behind her. She looked happy and serene, carrying a bouquet of winter flowers, and wearing his sapphire pendant. She was impossibly lovely; her face lit up when she saw him, and he felt overcome with emotion. 

Dimly he could see the smiling faces of his family in the front row, Tom looking fit to burst with happiness, Diana already dabbing at her eyes, and Arthur beaming with such joy he looked like a round, red sun. He saw little Jack waving enthusiastically from his pew, flanked by his proud parents and saw Charlotte wave back with a sunny smile.

She reached him and they joined hands immediately. He lifted the veil back from her bonnet and only a polite cough from the vicar stopped him kissing her immediately.

Half an hour later they were pronounced man and wife and then, amid a shower of rice, he did kiss her with all his heart and soul.

***

The Heywoods hosted the wedding breakfast with aplomb. All the furniture had somehow vanished from the house, and the rooms decked in greenery dotted with amaryllis flowers. A large table groaned with delicacies and the odd collection of guests rubbed shoulders happily, aided by several bottles of Mr Heywood’s carefully collected wine. Even Lady Denham could be found gossiping with Mrs Heaton and Lady Susan had her head together with Mary and Mrs Heywood. Over in a corner Alison was exchanging sweet nothings with James Stringer who stole kisses behind a large pot plant when he thought no one was looking. The children tore around the house thoroughly over-excited, and Sidney was amused to see Henry and Jack running around arm in arm after them.

Everyone seemed to want to trap him into conversation but all he really wanted was some time alone with Charlotte. At length he caught her eye. She glanced over towards the door and then disappeared from view. With superb diplomacy he extracted himself from Lady Denham’s iron grip and went in search of his wife. She was waiting by the kitchen door and led him out to a secluded part of the garden. Then she pulled him to her and his lips met hers gladly. It was freezing cold, but he didn’t notice one bit.

“At last,” she said after a protracted silence. “I thought we would never manage a moment alone.”

He dropped kisses all over her face. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Do you think we can go? It’s been a lovely celebration but…”

“I know. I’ve been thinking about being alone with you since I woke up this morning.” 

She blushed. “Well then.”

“Well then.”

***

Such was Sidney’s determination that within the hour they were being waved off by the guests and were making their way to the manor house, which had been hired for them by Lady Susan as a wedding gift. There was no one there when they arrived, but the fires were lit, and a cold supper had been laid out in one of the parlours. They looked at each other. Then Sidney held his hand out to her and they walked up the stairs together.

The bed was entwined with winter flowers and a cheerful fire danced in the grate. He saw her rub her arms, and he took her hands, looking into her eyes. “How are you feeling? Are you nervous?”

She blushed. “A little. It’s all so…new.”

“I know. We have all the time in the world you know, we can go as slowly as you want to.”

She put her hands up to her hair. “I should take this down at least. I’ll feel a lot more comfortable without a hundred pins sticking into my scalp.”

“Let me.”

She sat down at the dressing table and he pulled up a chair behind her. With deft fingers he teased each pin out of her hair, placing soft kisses on her neck as he did so. By the time her hair was down, her nerves were gone, and she turned and flung herself into his arms.

Charlotte awoke first the following morning. It was an odd feeling waking up to his solid warm body lying flush against her, and his arm snug around her waist. She stretched out her hand to look at the gold ring. She was truly married and now she could spend as much time with Sidney as she chose; she could wake up beside him and kiss him when he went to sleep. She ran her fingers along his strong, muscular arm and felt him stir and then gather her closer. Besides the delight of discovering his body, she found that her next favourite thing was feeling his skin against hers. It felt…she struggled to find the right word… _luxurious_.

“Good morning Mrs Parker.” 

She turned over and smiled. He was up on one elbow and grinning sleepily down at her, his hair on end. 

She slid her arms around his neck. “Good morning, Mr Parker.” 

He kissed her thoroughly and they lay down facing each other. “How are you feeling this morning, love?”

“Just...delightful.” She reached over and traced her fingertips over his forehead and against his chin. "How are you feeling?”

He grinned. “I woke up with my wife in my arms. I’m not sure happy is an adequate word.”

She pulled him close and kissed him, and then there were no more words.

***

Reality intruded. Edward Denham was to be tried at Sussex assizes at the end of that month; so after a sweet two week sojourn spent entirely in each other’s company, the Parkers reluctantly travelled back to Sanditon. Charlotte’s feelings of regret at not having Sidney all to herself was slightly tempered by her eagerness to see the house they had agreed on, near enough to Trafalgar House to see their family, and far away enough to escape from them when needed.

On the morning itself, Sidney left Charlotte at Sanditon House to keep Esther company. “I think she wanted to come, but Babs didn’t like the idea of Edward seeing her and knowing anything about her condition. The less information he has the better.”

Babington was looking pale and grim. “I’m happy to see you Charlotte. Sorry to tear you away from your honeymoon.”

“It can’t be helped. Edward Denham shot my husband. If Sidney needs to testify to have him convicted, then that’s what he must do.” 

He squeezed her shoulder and got into the carriage. Sidney lingered, kissing her forehead and then her lips. “We’ll come back as soon as the trial is over.”

She gave him a wobbly smile. “Promise?”

“With all my heart.” He kissed her once more and then they were away.

Nobody spoke in Lady Denham’s drawing room that afternoon. The clock on the wall counted out the seconds with agonising slowness. Esther sat rigid, one hand on her belly. “Do you think he might hang?” she said once.

Lady Denham sniffed. “He can be drawn and quartered for all I care.” But then she went and sat by Esther and held her hand. 

Charlotte tried to read but all she could think about was Sidney lying in the grip of his fever, hovering on the brink of death. Even though it had been four months since then, she still occasionally woke from nightmares where he had not survived. Now of course she had Sidney who would invariably draw her to him and plant sleepy kisses on her hair; and she would be lulled back to sleep by his heart beating against her.

At four o’clock horse hooves pounded on the gravel outside the house. Charlotte and Esther looked at each other and hurried to the front door. Sidney and Babington got down, looking tired and grey. 

Babington strode towards Esther. “He was convicted of attempted murder. Of both of us which is quite the feat. He’s going to be transported though.”

“Not hung?”

“There was no actual murder, and I think they wanted him off their hands as soon as possible. He’ll be sailing on Monday.”

Esther sighed and sagged against Babington. “It’s over then. Finally.”

“It is. Let’s get you inside now.”

Charlotte went to Sidney and put her arms around him. “Was it very bad?”

He nodded. “Edward just…stared at us. There was no life in his eyes, or remorse, or even fear. I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite that unnerved by anybody in my life.” 

She laid her cheek against his chest listening to his heartbeat. He kissed the top of her head and held her close. “Shall we walk back? I think I need the air.”

They wandered back over the cliffs, his arm securely around her waist. 

“I suppose Tom will want you back in the office now.”

“He can want all he likes. I told him I would be unavailable for a month at least. We are still newlyweds Mrs Parker and I intend for us to enjoy it a little longer.”

She grinned. “Newlyweds. Imagine if someone had told us that when we first met. We should never have believed them.”

“It was over there.” Sidney pointed to the path where she’d seen his curricle appear all those months ago. He smiled down at her. “Do you know what I thought when I first saw you?”

“You thought I was the maid.”

He gave a rueful laugh and put a hand to his face. “Pray don’t remind me of my terrible behaviour. No, I did not think you were the maid.”

“What on earth possessed you to say it then?”

“Well, imagine my dilemma, Charlotte. There I was, determined to live my life like a man scarred by love. I think I had got rather too proud of the idea that I should never marry, nor feel affection ever again. And then one day, I drove my curricle along some cliffs and saw you, arm in arm with my sister-in-law.” He stopped and put his arms around her. “I thought you had the sweetest face I’d ever seen.” He shook his head. “My heart was beating as it never had before.”

Charlotte laughed and touched her hand to his cheek. “An outrage.”

“It certainly was. I tried so hard not to look at you and didn’t know what to do, or say. There was nothing for it but to be as objectionable as possible.” 

They stayed awhile, looking out towards the sea. Sidney looked around him. “I swear these cliffs have seen more action than Trafalgar, Charlotte. I cannot believe I ever thought Sanditon was a sleepy little place where nothing happened.”

“Well I certainly hope nothing more occurs. I’ll be perfectly happy with a quiet life from now on.”

“And what does a quiet life look like?”

“Making a comfortable home, making Sanditon a success.” She smiled into his coat. “Our own family.” 

“That most of all.” He kissed her gently and tenderly. “A quiet life it shall be, my love.”

Then they put their arms around each other, and as the sun dipped towards the sea, they made their way home.

_Fin_


	12. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This epilogue is a bit of a companion piece for the prologue. Mostly (almost entirely) fluff, and a wrapping up of Georgiana's story.
> 
> I've said it before, but I want to say it again as I finish this story, thank you all so much for your encouragement and support, it's really meant a lot xxx

_Four years later, June 1826_

Sidney awoke, blinking at the shaft of sunlight which was dancing across his face. He stretched out his arms and immediately regretted it; the pain in his muscles was almost unbearable. He rolled over and buried his head in the pillow. He was aching all over and his shoulder was throbbing again. He was definitely going to have words with James Stringer. It was one thing to place a friendly bet on the outcome of the Sanditon cricket match, but quite another for James to immediately recruit all of the Heywood brothers for his team. Sidney had run until his lungs had almost given out, but the Parkers hadn’t stood a chance.

He gingerly extended his hand to feel for Charlotte and found her side of the bed empty. With an almighty effort, he dragged himself up and into his dressing gown, and padded down the corridor to the nursery.

She was there, ensconced in the comfortable wing back chair he’d bought for her when she was first in the family way. Susan was cradled on her shoulder, her tiny fingers tangled in Charlotte’s hair. He stood and watched them for a moment, his beloved wife patting their daughter gently on the back and cooing into her fine baby curls. Then Susan hiccoughed and Charlotte kissed her head. “There we are, my precious.”

They had decided against having a nanny; it had been difficult enough for Charlotte to reconcile herself to hiring a cook and a housemaid. The Heywoods did have a maid-of-all-work but preferred to do the lion’s share of their household management themselves, and Sidney knew that Charlotte found it hard to sit by while someone else made bread or cleaned the rooms. When they had discovered her first pregnancy, she had been adamant that she wanted to take care of the baby herself. Sleep had become something of a precious commodity since then, but Sidney found that he didn’t mind a bit.

Charlotte looked up and saw him, and her eyes glinted with amusement. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“As if I’ve been knocked over by a very large hay wagon.” He leaned down to plant a kiss on her lips, and then groaned as he straightened up. “I’m getting too old for this, Charlotte.”

She shook with quiet laughter. “You’re thirty-two, my love, not at your last prayers. And I warned you James was out for revenge after you beat them all ends up last year.”

“Well he certainly got it. If it wasn’t for Captain Lockwood, we would have been thrashed. Is that not right, Miss Susan?” He stroked his daughter’s downy head. Susan gave him a hard stare and blew a bubble.

Sidney massaged his neck and his eyes fell on the other little bed in the room. It was empty and there was a small pillow abandoned on the floor. Wordlessly he looked at Charlotte. Her lips twitched and she glanced over to the long curtain by the window where ten little toes peeped out from underneath the hem. “Charlotte?” he said in quite another voice. “Where’s Georgie? Has he run away to sea again?”

There was a giggle from behind the curtain. With a grin, Sidney went through the rest of the routine they played out on an almost daily basis. Georgie was not underneath his own mattress, nor was he in the wash bowl or the music box on the mantelpiece. When Sidney had exhausted all the options, including the inside of an ornamental swan, he lifted the curtain away from the wall and peered behind it.

Two dark little eyes met his. “I FINDED YOU,” cried Georgie, enthusiastically if inaccurately.

Sidney laughed and swung him up in his arms, wincing a little as his muscles spasmed. “You’re a clever boy. Now, tell me what is happening today.”

“I play with Jack.”

“You can. But what else?”

Georgie frowned, grasping after the words he wanted. Charlotte stroked his foot. “Do you remember what Aunt Georgiana is doing today?”

He brightened. “Getting married to Captain Lockwood. I want to show him my new boat.”

“And so you shall.” Sidney dropped a kiss on his dark curls and set him down. “After the wedding, mind.”

Georgiana appeared in the doorway looking a trifle pale. “Most definitely. If there’s one thing Robert loves only just slightly less than me, it’s a boat.”

Sidney smiled at her. “You’re awake already. How are you feeling?”

She sighed. “So very nervous. I don’t think I can eat a thing, and I’m sure I won’t even be able to do up the buttons on my gloves, my fingers are trembling so much.”

Charlotte gave Susan a kiss and placed her back in her crib. “Come with me. We can begin getting you ready, I’ll ask Mrs Bastable to make you some toast, and you’ll be as right as a trivet in no time. Everything is going to be beautiful.”

Georgiana clutched at her hands. “Were you nervous at your wedding? I don’t remember.”

“A little. But it all went away when we saw each other.” Charlotte glanced over at Sidney with a twinkle in her eye and he caught his breath. Even after four years of marriage, a sturdy three-year-old and a baby, she could still make his heart skip in his chest. He exchanged a look with her, before she shepherded Georgiana out of the room.

***

As Charlotte predicted, Georgiana’s wedding passed off beautifully and the happy couple kissed each other tenderly outside Sanditon church as the bells pealed in celebration. Captain Robert Lockwood was a sea captain; a kind man whose quiet bearing hid a determined spirit and an irreverent sense of humour. Georgiana adored him; and it was perhaps a deeper, more contented kind of love than she had experienced before. As she had confided in Charlotte when she had become engaged, “I feel right when I’m with him, you know. I feel like myself.”

Charlotte did know, and she was also pleased that Sidney had taken to Robert Lockwood so quickly. He was inclined to be deeply suspicious of Georgiana’s admirers, and as a result had been rigidly polite and unbending when she’d brought Robert to Sanditon to meet them all. It had taken less than an hour for Sidney to be utterly disarmed, and Charlotte had finally left them sitting by the fire and exchanging sea faring stories over their port glasses. The only fly in the ointment was that Georgiana and Robert would be sailing for Spain within a week of their wedding, and Charlotte was going to miss her dearly. 

Georgiana bounded over to where Charlotte stood with Alison and threw her arms around them both. “Is it not a wonderful day?”

All three of them stood for a moment, their arms around each other. Then Lady Susan approached, the same gentle and knowing smile on her face. “Well, my girls. I think I am rather satisfied. You have all made excellent matches and appear vastly contented.”

Alison smiled as her own small daughter ran around her legs. “Extremely contented.”

Georgiana held out her hand so that her ring caught the sunlight. “Contented? I’m utterly joyous. Lord, just remember how unhappy we all were, and now look at us. It’s a shame one has to go through such trials to find true love.”

“Ahh, but those trials make it all worth it, do they not?”

Charlotte looked over at Sidney. He was standing talking to Babington and James whilst cradling little Susan in the crook of his arm. His other hand was ruffling Georgie’s hair as Captain Lockwood knelt down and showed Georgie all the different parts of his boat and what they were all called. Sidney was laughing, his face open, good-natured and full of life. He caught her eye just then and winked at her, a soft smile on his lips.

“Most definitely worth it.”

The wedding party and guests repaired to the beach where a sumptuous wedding breakfast was laid out under the shade of a grand marquee. Diana and Mary fluttered around the tables arranging and rearranging plates. Arthur had insisted on taking charge of little Susan and was even now walking her around the marquee pointing out all the treats while she chewed on his lapel. On the beach, Charlotte stood arm in arm with Esther while Georgie ran around kicking up sand with his cousins and the Babington children. Jack, by now eight years old and tall for his age, built them elaborate castles in the sand for their edification, his blond hair on end and a sunny smile on his face.

James watched him with a smile, one arm around Alison. “Not bad, that little lad. We may make an architect of him yet.”

“Ah well,” Mr Heaton shaded his eyes with his hand. “This morning he told us he wishes to be a lawyer and lock up all the bad people, he said. Don’t know where he got the notion from.”

A loud gong sounded from the marquee. Tom was brandishing a mallet and gesticulating at everyone. “My friends! My friends, a word if you please.”

Sidney appeared by Charlotte’s side, Georgie on his shoulders and his waistcoat covered in sand. “I hope Georgiana doesn’t regret asking him to make a speech.”

“No, why should she?”

“No reason at all, as long as he concentrates on her and not extolling the virtues of Sanditon.”

She elbowed him in ribs as Tom shouted across the heads of the guests.

“My friends, let us first raise our glasses to Georgiana and Robert. A happy life to you both. These past few years have brought home to me the notion of what it means to be a family. Together with all my family and all of our friends, we have brought prosperity to Sanditon. Even today the beaches and the streets are filled with people coming from nearby towns and villages to sample our sea air. To…to paraphrase Mr Shakespeare, though we be but little, we are fierce.” 

There was a ripple of a laughter across the party. Charlotte heard a groan from Sidney, but she could see he was trying not to smile. 

Tom was enthused. “In conclusion, family is what matters. And Georgiana, you have found your family with us and with your husband, who is also an excellent cricketer. I salute you and wish you all the joy in the world.”

Georgiana beamed. Robert’s shoulders were shaking, but he raised his glass at Tom in thanks. 

Later, the day cooled. Georgiana and Robert had been waved off with tears and handkerchiefs and many of the guests had departed. Tom and Mary stood down at the water holding hands as Arthur snored peacefully on a chair and Diana sipped on her beloved tincture.

Charlotte and Sidney sat together on a blanket, leaning against each other as Georgie lay between them fast asleep and Susan fussed with the ribbons on her dress. Sidney raised his hand to salute the Babingtons who were walking along the beach with surrounded by three tumbling children. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “It’s been a good day.”

Charlotte put her head on his shoulder. “Georgiana is happy.”

“I’m heartily glad of it. She seems to be delighted by the notion of a life at sea.”

They stayed in silence a while, looking out to sea whilst Georgie kicked his legs in his sleep. 

Sidney smiled ruefully. “I remember dreaming about this, you know. Back then, before we were married. I thought of us, sitting on the beach with our children.”

“When we were parted?”

“Perhaps a little before that.”

She laughed and laced her fingers in his. “So you were just pretending to be a careless man about town.”

“Of course.” He kissed her hand, and then kissed her for good measure. “I think I’ve always been a family man at heart, even when I was a rogue.”

“I don’t always mind the rogue, you know.”

“I know.” He grinned and slipped an arm around her waist. They stayed on the beach until the sun turned red and then carried their children back through the rose-tinted streets of Sanditon.


End file.
